O/ie  <S8>d\>entu'CZ6  of 
cstangoid 


'Boofeet 


HUGH  WYNNE. 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS. 

HEPHZIBAH  GUINNESS. 

IN  WAR  TIME. 

ROLAND  BLAKE. 

FAR  IN  THE  FOREST. 

CHARACTERISTICS. 

WHEN  ALL  THE  WOODS  ARE  GREEN. 

A  MADEIRA  PARTY. 


DOCTOR  AND  PATIENT. 
WEAR  AND  TEAR  —  HINTS  FOR  THE 
OVERWORKED. 


COLLECTED  POEMS. 


•THE  NETS    WERE   HUXG  OVEE  FBAXCOIS  S   SHOCLDEKS."     (See  page  18.) 


<&k 


e 


o 


cfoundling,  tfokief,  ojuggler,  and  cPencinc/- 
during  the  cFtenck  S^evotution 


l  STGitctiell,  &T&.2). 


3).  cmaivazd  ant)  bdinbuzc/k 


(oentuiy  (Bo, 


Copyright,  1897,  1898,  by 
THE  CENTUKY  Co. 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


TO 

PHILIP  SCHUYLEE 

IN  RECOGNITION  OF 
A  CONSTANT  FRIENDSHIP 


CONTENTS 

I 

PAGE 

Of  how  Francois  the  foundling  was  cared  for  by  the  good 
fathers  of  the  Benedictine  Asylum  for  Orphans,  and  of 
what  manner  of  lad  he  was  1 


II 

In  which  Francois  becomes  a  choir-boy,  and  serves  two 
masters,  to  the  impairment  of  his  moral  sense  .  .  5 

III 

Of  the  misfortunes  caused  by  loss  of  a  voice,  and  of  how  a 
cat  and  a  damsel  got  Francois  into  trouble  —  whereupon, 
preferring  the  world  to  a  monastery,  he  ran  away  from 
the  choristers  of  Notre  Dame  .  .  13 


IV 

Of  how  the  world  used  Francois,  and  of  the  reward  of  virtue. 
He  makes  his  first  friend  19 


V 

Of  the  immorality  which  may  come  of  an  empty  stomach, 
and  of  how  Francois  became  acquainted  with  a  human 
crab  .  27 


CONTENTS 


VI 

PAGE 

Of  how  Francois  regained  a  lost  friend,  and  of  his  adventure 
with  the  poet  Horace  and  another  gentleman  .  .  .32 

VII 

Wherein  is  told  how  Francis  saved  a  man's  neck  and 
learned  to  juggle 47 

VIII 

In  which  Francois  discovers  the  mercantile  value  of 
laughter,  and  the  Crab  takes  toll  of  the  jugglers  —  with 
the  sad  history  of  Despard,  the  partner  .  .  .  .57 

IX 

In  which  Francois  tells  the  fortune  of  the  Marquis  de  Ste. 
Luce  and  of  Robespierre,  and  has  his  own  fortune  told, 
and  of  how  Despard  saw  a  man  of  whom  he  was  afraid  .  65 

X 

How  Pierre  became  a  Jacobin  and  how  a  nation  became 


XI 


80 


The  juggling  firm  of  Despard,  Fran£ois  &  Co.  is  broken  up 
—  Despard  goes  into  politics,  and  Francois  becomes  a 
fencing-master 84 

XII 

In  which  Toto  is  seen  to  change  his  politics  twice  a  day  — 
the  mornings  and  the  afternoons  quarrel —  In  which  Jean 
Pierre  Andre  Amar,  "  Ic  farouche,"  appears  .  .  .  103 


CONTENTS 


XIII 

PAGE 

Citizen  Amar,  meeting  the  marquis,  is  unlucky  and  vindic 
tive  ...- 117 

XIV 

Francois  escapes  from  Paris  and  goes  in  search  of  a  father. 
He  meets  a  man  who  has  a  wart  on  his  nose,  and  who  be 
cause  of  this  is  unlucky 136 

XV 

How  Fran£ois  finds  Desparcl  and  has  a  lesson  in  politics, 
and  of  what  came  of  it 151 

XVI 

How  Francois  warns  the  Marquis  de  Ste.  Luce,  and  of  the 
battle  on  the  staircase  between  the  old  day  and  the  new  .  166 

XVII 

Of  how  Frangois,  escaping,  lives  in  the  wood ;  of  how  he 
sees  the  daughter  of  the  marquis  dying,  and  knows  not 
then,  or  ever  after,  what  it  was  that  hurt  him  ;  of  how  he 
becomes  homesick  for  Paris 179 

XVIII 

Wherein  is  told  how  Francois  reenters  Paris,  and  lodges 
with  the  Crab ;  and  of  how  Toto  is  near  to  death  by  the 
guillotine.  Francois  meets  Despard  and  the  marquis, 
who  warns  him  and  is  warned 190 

XIX 

Of  the  sorrowful  life  of  loneliness,  of  Fran9ois's  arrest,  and 
of  those  he  met  in  prison 215 


x  CONTENTS 

XX 

PAGE 

Of  how  Frangois  gave  Amar  advice,  and  of  how  the  marquis 
bought  his  own  head 225 

XXI 

How  Frangois,  having  made  a  bargain  with  Citizen  Amar, 
cannot  keep  it  with  the  man  of  the  wart  —  How  Despard 
dies  in  the  place  of  the  marquis  —  Of  Frangois's  escape 
from  prison 240 

XXII 

Wherein  is  told  how  Frangois  baits  a  crab-trap  with  the 
man  of  the  wart 258 

XXIII 

Of  how  Frangois  found  lodgings  where  he  paid  no  rent  — 
Of  the  death  of  Toto  —  Of  how  his  master,  having  no 
friends  on  the  earth,  finds  them  underground  .  .  277 

XXIV 

Of  how  Frangois  got  into  good  society  underground  —  Of 
what  he  saw,  and  of  the  value  of  a  cat's  eyes  —  From 
darkness  to  light  —  Of  how  Frangois  made  friends  for  life  287 


EPILOGUE 

Wherein  is  some  further  account  of  Frangois  and  of  those 
who  helped  him 312 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  NETS  WERE  HUNG  OVER  FRANCOIS'S  SHOULDERS  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

FRANCOIS  AND  TOTO  IN  THE  LUXEMBOURG  .  .  .37 
PIERRE  TAUGHT  FRA^OIS  TO  JUGGLE  WITH  BALLS  .  .  53 
;T  is  A  GARGOYLE  COME  DOWN  FROM  THE  ROOF  OF  ST. 

JACQUES 67 

HE  PAID  IN  ADVANCE  THE  CUSTOMARY  DENIER  A  DIEU  .  87 
AND  so  A  DOG  is  SENT  TO  FETCH  THE  SAFEGUARD  THE 

PEOPLE  PROVIDE '.113 

HE  STAGGERED  TO  LEFT,  TO  EIGHT,  AND  AT  LAST  TUM 
BLED  IN  A  HEAP 131 

HE  HELD  HIS  WAY  ALONG  THE  HIGHROAD  ....  139 
THE  WANDERER  TAPPED  ON  THE  PANE  ....  181 
HE  SAW  A  WHITE  FACE  ON  THE  PILLOW  ....  187 

QUATRE  PATTES •  195 

DEATH  TO  ROYAL  RATS  ! 207 

AMAR  CONSIDERED  THIS  NOVEL  SPECIMEN  OF  HUMANITY  .  229 

HE  PULLED  THE  BELL  AT  No.  33  Bis 269 

"  THE  LITTLE  TRAP  DID  WORK,"  CRIED  FRA^OIS,  BEHIND 

HIS  SCREEN 273 

xi 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF 


FOUNDLING,   THIEF,  JUGGLER,   AND  FENCING-MASTER 
DURING  THE  FRENCH   REVOLUTION 


Of  how  Francois  the  foundling  was  cared  for  by  the 
good  fathers  of  the  Benedictine  Asylum  for  Orphans, 
and  of  what  manner  of  lad  he  ^vas. 

the  summer  of  the  year  1777  a  lad  of 
about  ten  years,  clad  in  a  suit  of  gray, 
was  playing  in  the  high- walled  garden  of 
the  Benedictine  Asylum  for  Orphans  in 
Paris.  The  sun  was  pleasant,  the  birds 
sang  overhead,  the  roses  were  many,  for  the  month 
was  June.  A  hundred  lads  were  noisily  running 
about.  They  had  the  look  of  being  well  fed,  decently 
clothed,  and  kindly  cared  for.  An  old  priest  walked 
to  and  fro,  at  times  looking  up  from  his  breviary  to 
say  a  pleasant  word  or  to  check  some  threatening 
quarrel. 

Presently  he  paused  beside  the  boy  who  was  at  the 
moment  intently  watching  a  bird  on  a  branch  over- 
i  1 


2  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

head.  As  the  priest  turned,  the  boy  had  thrown  him 
self  on  the  grass  and  was  laughing  heartily. 

"  What  amuses  thee,  my  son  !  "  said  the  father. 

"  I  am  laughing  at  the  birds." 

"  And  why  do  they  make  thee  laugh,  Francois  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  priest,  "  do  not  know  why  the 
birds  sing,  nor  why  thou  dost  laugh.  Thou  hast  a 
talent  that  way.  The  good  God  grant  thee  always 
cause  " ;  and  with  his  eyes  on  his  breviary,  and  his 
lips  moving  in  prayer,  he  walked  away. 

The  lad  fell  back  again  on  the  grass,  and  laughed 
anew,  as  if  overcome  with  some  jest  he  shared  with 
no  one  but  the  birds  overhead.  This  was  a  kindly 
little  waif  brought  hither  from  the  Enfants  Trouves, 
nameless  except  for  the  card  pinned  on  the  basket 
in  which  he  lay  when  the  unknown  mother  left  him, 
a  red-faced  baby,  to  the  charity  of  asylum  life. 

His  constant  mirthfulness  was  a  sad  cross  to  some 
of  the  good  fathers,  for  neither  punishment,  fast,  nor 
penance  got  the  better  of  this  gaiety,  nor  served  to 
repress  its  instinctive  expression.  He  had,  too, — 
what  is  rare  in  childhood, —  quick  powers  of  ob 
servation,  and  a  certain  joy  in  the  world  of  nature, 
liking  to  lie  on  his  back  and  watch  the  birds  at  work, 
or  pleased  to  note  the  daily  changes  of  flowers  or  the 
puzzling  journeys  of  the  ants  which  had  their  crowded 
homes  beneath  the  lilacs  in  undisturbed  corners  of 
the  garden.  His  nearest  mother,  Nature,  meant  the 
boy  to  be  one  of  those  rare  beings  who  find  happi 
ness  in  the  use  of  keen  senses  and  in  a  wakeful 
mind,  which  might  have  been  trained  to  employ  its 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS        3 

powers  for  the  partial  conquest  of  some  of  her  many 
kingdoms.  But  no  friendly  hand  was  here  to  guide, 
no  example  present  to  incite  or  lift  him.  The  simple 
diet  provided  for  the  intellect  of  these  little  ones  was 
like  the  diet  of  their  table  —  the  same  for  one  and 
for  all. 

His  head  was  high,  his  face  long ;  all  his  features 
were  of  unusual  size,  the  mouth  and  ears  of  dispro 
portionate  magnitude ;  altogether,  a  quaint  face,  not 
quite  of  to-day,  a  something  Gothic  and  medieval  in 
its  general  expression. 

The  dull  round  of  matins  and  vespers,  the  routine 
of  lessons,  the  silent  refectory  meals,  went  on  year 
after  year  with  little  variation.  The  boy  Francois 
simply  accepted  them  as  did  the  rest ;  but,  unlike 
some  of  his  comrades,  he  found  food  for  mirth,  silent, 
gentle,  or  boisterous,  where  no  other  saw  cause  for 
amusement. 

Once  a  week  a  sober  line  of  gray-clad  boys,  with 
here  and  there  a  watchful  priest,  filed  through  the 
gay  streets  to  mass  at  St.  Eustache  or  Notre  Dame. 
He  learned,  as  he  grew,  to  value  these  chances,  and 
to  look  forward  with  eager  anticipation  to  what  they 
brought  him.  During  these  walks  the  quick-minded 
Fran9ois  saw  and  heard  a  hundred  things  which 
aroused  his  curiosity.  The  broad  gardens  of  the  Lux 
embourg,  the  young  fellows  at  unrestricted  play,  the 
river  and  the  boats,  by  degrees  filled  him  with  keen 
desire  to  see  more  of  this  outer  world,  and  to  have 
easy  freedom  to  roam  at  will.  It  was  the  first  flutter 
of  wings  longing  for  natural  flight.  Before  they  set 
out  on  these  journeys,  a  good  father  at  the  great 


4        THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

gateway  said  to  them  as  they  went  by :  "  Look  neither 
to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  my  children.  'T  is  a  day 
of  prayer.  Remember !  r  Alas  !  what  eyes  so  busy 
as  those  of  Frai^ois  ?  "  Look  at  this  —  at  that,"  he 
would  cry  to  the  lads  close  to  him.  "  Be  quiet,  there  ! " 
said  the  priests'  low  voices ;  and  on  this  Frangois's 
droll  face  would  begin  to  express  the  unspoken  de 
light  he  found  in  the  outer  world  of  men  and  things. 
This  naughty  outside  world  kept  calling  him  to  share 
its  liberty.  The  boy  liked  best  the  choir,  where  his 
was  the  most  promising  voice.  Here  was  happiness 
such  as  the  use  of  dexterous  hands  or  observant  eyes 
also  gave  him.  Religion  was  to  him  largely  a  matter 
of  formal  service.  But  in  this,  as  in  secular  educa 
tion,  the  individuality  of  the  creature  may  not  be  set 
aside  without  risk  of  disaster.  For  all  alike  there 
was  the  same  dull  round,  the  same  instruction. 
Nevertheless,  the  vast  influence  of  these  repeated 
services,  and  of  the  constant  catechism,  he  continued 
to  feel  to  his  latest  day. 

He  was  emotional  and  imaginative,  fond  of  color, 
and  sensitive  to  music  ;  but  the  higher  lessons  of  the 
church,  which  should  control  the  life  of  action,  were 
without  effect  on  a  character  which  was  naturally  one 
of  exceptional  levity.  Such  a  mind  has  small  power 
to  apply  to  the  conduct  of  life  the  mere  rules  laid 
down  for  its  guidance,  and  is  apt  to  accept  as  per 
sonally  useful  only  what  conies  from  the  lessons  of 
experience. 


II 

In  which  Francois  becomes  a  choir-boy,  and  serves  two 
masters,  to  the  impairment  of  his  moral  sense. 

E  was  about  fourteen,  and  the  best  of 
the  choir,  when  a  great  change  took 
place  in  his  life.  He  was  sent,  with 
a  dozen  others,  to  the  vestry  of  Notre 
Dame,  and  there  carefully  tested  as  to 
the  power  and  quality  of  his  voice.  The  masters  of 
the  choir  were  exacting,  but,  to  his  great  delight,  he 
was  thought  the  best  of  the  four  who  were  finally 
selected  to  fill  vacancies  among  the  boy  choristers  of 
the  cathedral.  This  came  about  in  the  autumn  of 
the  year  1781. 

The  next  day  he  received  a  long  lecture  on  how  he 
should  behave  himself;  and  thus  morally  provided, 
was  sent,  with  his  small  belongings  in  a  bag,  to  the 
house  of  certain  of  the  choir-masters  who  lived  in  the 
Rue  des  Chanteurs.  One  of  the  priests  who  escorted 
the  four  boys  stood  at  the  door  of  the  house  of  the 
choir,  and  saying  good-by  to  them  as  they  went  in, 
bade  them  come,  if  they  might,  and  visit  their  old 
home;  and  so,  with  a  benediction,  sent  them  forth 
into  a  larger  world. 

5 


6        THE  ADVENTUBES  OF  FEANgOIS 

It  was  not  much  larger,  nor  was  it  as  agreeable. 
When  the  good  father  left  them,  one  Tomas,  who 
was  steward  of  the  choir-house,  took  the  lads  in 
charge. 

"  Up  with  ye,  singing-birds  !  "  he  cried ;  "  up  !  up  ! " 
And  this  at  each  story :  "It  will  soon  be  your  best 
chance  of  heaven  j  up !  up ! "  until  they  reached  a 
large  attic  under  the  tiles. 

It  was  a  dismal  place,  and  hospitable  to  every 
wind  that  blew.  Each  of  twelve  choir-boys  had  a 
straw  mattress  on  the  floor,  and  pegs  where  hung  his 
clothes  and  the  white  surplice  he  wore  during  ser 
vice.  The  four  newcomers  took  possession,  and  were 
soon  informed  by  Tomas  of  their  duties.  They  must 
be  up  at  five  to  sing  before  breakfast  with  the  second 
chanter. 

"  Before  breakfast ! "  cried  one  of  the  recruits. 

"  Little  animal !  "  said  Tomas.  "  Before  thou  dost 
eat  there  is  room  to  fill  thy  chest ;  but  after,  what 
boy  hath  room?  Breakfast  at  six  and  a  half;  at 
seven  a  lesson.  Thou  wilt  intone  with  Pere  Lalatte." 

Thus  the  day  was  to  be  filled ;  for  here  were  les 
sons  a-plenty  in  Latin,  and  all  must  learn  to  read  and 
to  write,  for  they  might  be  priests  some  blessed  day. 

Fran9ois  reflected  as  Tomas  packed  the  hours  with 
this  and  that  as  one  packs  a  bag.  He  made  his 
face  as  grave  as  nature  would  let  it  be,  and  said 
it  was  very  nice,  and  that  he  liked  to  sing.  Was 
there  anything  else  ?  Tomas  replied  that  this  first 
day  they  might  ask  questions,  but  that  after  that  he 
(Tomas)  had  only  one  answer,  because  to  have  only 
one  saved  thinking. 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS        7 

This  amused  Francois,  who  was  prematurely  capa 
ble  of  seeing  the  fun  of  things. 

When  a  duller  boy  who  did  not  apprehend  asked 
to  know  more  he  received  an  illustration  in  the  form 
of  a  smart  smack,  which  proved  convincingly  in 
structive,  and  silenced  all  but  Fraii9ois,  who  asked, 
" Please,  monsieur,  when  may  we  play?"  and  "Is 
there  anything  more  ?  " 

Tomas  replied  that  there  was  a  free  hour  before 
supper,  and  a  little  while  somewhere  about  noon  in 
the  garden ;  also,  they  must  wait  on  table ;  and  oh, 
he  forgot  the  prayers ;  and  then  went  on  to  complete 
the  packing  of  the  day  with  various  small  duties  in 
the  nature  of  attentions  to  the  comfort  of  Tomas. 
With  some  last  words  as  to  the  time  of  the  next 
meal,  the  steward  left  them. 

The  lads,  silent  and  anxious,  arranged  their  small 
possessions.  A  little  goldfinch  in  a  wicker  cage  was 
Franqois's  most  valued  property ;  he  had  taught  it 
many  pretty  tricks,  and  now  he  had  been  allowed  to 
bring  it  with  him.  FranQois  put  the  cage  on  the 
window-ledge,  and  fed  his  brightly  tinted  bird  from 
a  small  store  of  millet  with  which  he  had  filled  his 
pocket.  Then  he  looked  out  to  see  what  prospect 
the  view  from  the  attic  afforded. 

The  home  of  the  master-choristers  was  an  ancient 
house  of  the  days  of  Henri  IV,  and  leaned  so  far 
over  that  as  the  boy  looked  out  he  had  a  sudden  fear 
lest  it  should  be  about  to  tumble.  The  street  was 
not  more  than  twelve  feet  wide.  The  opposite  dwell 
ings  were  a  full  story  below  the  attic  from  which  the 
boy  looked.  The  nearest  house  across  the  way  had 


8        THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

an  ancient  stoop.  Others  bent  back  from  the  line  of 
the  street,  and  the  open  windows  gave  them  a  look  of 
yawning  weariness  which  set  the  boy  to  gaping  in 
sympathy. 

Above  was  a  mottled  wilderness  of  discolored  tiles, 
chimney-pots,  and  here  and  there  gray  corner  turrets 
with  vanes  which  seemed  to  entertain  diverse  views 
as  to  the  direction  whence  the  wind  blew.  Below 
was  the  sunless  well  of  the  street.  As  he  gazed  he 
saw  the  broad  hats  of  priests  hiding  the  figures  be 
neath  them.  It  interested  the  boy.  It  was  new  and 
strange.  He  was  too  intent  to  notice  that  all  but  he 
had  gone,  obedient  to  an  order  of  Tomas. 

A  woman  at  a  window  over  the  way  let  fall  a  skirt 
she  had  been  drying.  It  sailed  to  and  fro,  and  fell 
on  the  head  of  a  reflective  abbe.  The  boy  broke  into 
laughter.  A  cat  climbed  on  to  a  chimney-pot,  and 
was  met  by  a  gust  of  smoke  from  the  flue  beside  it. 
She  scrambled  off,  sneezing. 

"  What  fun  ! "  cried  the  boy,  and  laughed  again. 

"  Little  beast ! "  shouted  Tomas.  "  Must  I  come 
for  thee  ?  'T  is  not  permitted  to  laugh.  It  is  forbid 
to  laugh.  It  spoils  the  voice " —  a  queer  notion 
which,  to  his  sorrow,  the  boy  found  to  prevail  in  the 
house  of  the  choristers. 

"  How  can  that  be  ? "  said  Franqois,  boldly. 

The  man  gave  him  to  understand  that  he  was  to 
obey  his  betters  without  answering,  and  then,  taking 
the  cage  from  the  window,  said :  "  Come  —  quick, 
too !  Thou  art  late  for  the  dinner,  and  must  do 
without  it.  There  is  a  singing-lesson.  Off  with 
thee!" 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS        9 

He  was  leaving  the  room  when,  suddenly,  a  strange 
fury  of  anger  came  on  the  boy.  He  snatched  the 
cage  from  the  man's  hand,  crying ,  "  My  bird !  It  is 
my  bird ! " 

Tomas  caught  him,  and  began  to  administer  a 
smart  cuffing;  but  the  lad  was  vigorous  and  of  feline 
agility.  He  used  nails,  teeth,  and  feet.  Then,  of  a 
sudden,  he  ceased  to  struggle,  and  fell  on  a  mattress 
in  an  agony  of  tears.  The  man  had  set  his  foot  on 
the  fallen  cage,  crying : 

"  I  will  teach  thee  a  lesson,  little  animal ! " 

There  lay  in  the  crushed  cage  the  dead  bird,  still 
quivering,  a  shapeless  mass  of  green  and  yellow  with 
a  splotch  of  red.  It  was  the  first  lesson  of  that 
larger  world  toward  which  the  foundling  had  been 
so  joyfully  looking. 

He  made  no  further  resistance  to  the  discipline 
which  followed.  Then  came  a  dark  cell  and  bread 
and  water  for  a  weary  day,  and  much  profit  in  the 
way  of  experience.  It  was  a  gentle  home  he  had 
left.  He  had  known  there  no  unkindness,  nor  had 
he  ever  so  sinned  as  to  suffer  more  than  some  mild 
punishment.  The  new  life  was  hard,  the  diet  spare. 
As  the  winter  came  on,  the  attic  proved  to  be  cold. 
The  winds  came  in  from  the  tiles  above  and  through 
the  shrunken  window-frames.  Once  within,  they 
seemed  to  stay  and  to  wander  in  chilly  gusts.  The 
dark  suits  worn  by  the  choir-boys  were  none  too 
warm.  If  the  white  surplice  were  clean,  little  more 
was  asked  in  that  direction.  There  were  long  ser 
vices  twice  a  day  at  the  great  cathedral  near  by,  and 
three  hours  of  practice  under  the  eye  of  a  junior 


10       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

chorister.  The  boys  were  abed  at  eight,  and  up  at 
five ;  and  for  play,  there  were  two  uncertain  hours 
—  after  the  noon  meal  and  at  seven  in  the  evening  — 
when  they  were  free  to  move  about  a  small  court 
behind  the  house,  or  to  rest,  if  they  pleased,  in  the 
attic.  Four  days  in  the  week  there  were  lessons  in 
Latin  and  in  reading  and  writing.  Assuredly  the 
devil  had  little  of  the  chance  which  idle  hours  are 
presumed  to  give.  But  this  fallen  angel  has  also 
the  industry  of  the  minute,  and  knows  how  to  profit 
by  the  many  chances  of  life.  He  provided  sugges 
tive  lessons  in  the  habits  of  the  choristers  who  dwelt 
in  the  stories  above  the  wine-shop  on  the  first  floor. 
Sounds  of  gay  carouses  reached  the  small  garret  saints 
at  night,  and  gay  voices  were  heard  which  had  other 
than  masculine  notes.  At  meal-times  the  choir-boys 
waited  on  their  masters,  and  fetched  their  food  from 
the  kitchen.  The  lads  soon  learned  to  take  toll  on 
the  way,  and  to  comfort  their  shrunken  stomachs 
with  a  modest  share  of  the  diet  of  their  betters. 

"  Little  rats  ! "  said  Tomas  the  steward,  "  you  will 
squeal  in  purgatory  for  this;  and  't  were  better  to 
give  you  a  dose  of  it  here."  And  so  certain  of  the 
rats,  on  account  of  temporary  excess  of  feed,  were 
given  none  for  a  day,  and  left  in  a  cold  cellar  to  such 
moral  aids  as  reflection  might  fetch. 

Franqois  sat  with  his  comrades  of  mishap  in  the 
gloom,  and  devised  new  ways  of  procuring  food  and 
concealing  their  thefts. 

"  Rats  we  are,"  said  Fran9ois,  gaily ;  "  and  rats  had 
need  be  smart ;  and  who  ever  heard  that  the  bon  Dieu 
sent  rats  to  purgatory ! "  Then  he  hatched  queer 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS       11 

stories  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  too  penitent; 
and  whether  full  or  empty,  cold  or  warm,  took  all 
that  came  with  perpetual  solace  of  good-humored 
laughter.  It  was  not  in  him  to  bear  malice.  The 
choir-masters  liked  him,  and  with  the  boys  he  was 
the  leader. 

Most  of  the  dozen  choir-boys  were  dull  fellows; 
but  this  sharp-witted  Francois  was  of  other  make, 
and  found  in  the  table-talk  of  the  choristers,  and  of 
the  cures  who  came  now  and  then  to  share  their 
ample  fare,  food  for  such  thoughts  as  a  boy  thinks. 
He  soon  learned,  as  he  grew  older,  how  difficult  is 
complete  sin;  how  many  outlets  there  are  for  him 
who,  being  penitent,  desires  to  create  new  oppor 
tunities  for  penitence.  Fra^ois  was  fast  forming 
his  character.  He  had  small  need  to  look  for  ex 
cuses,  and  a  meager  talent  for  regret.  When  his 
stomach  was  full  he  was  good,  and  when  it  was 
empty  he  must,  as  he  said  in  after  years,  "  fill  it  to 
squeeze  out  Satan." 

There  were  singular  books  about,  and  for  his  edu 
cation,  now  that  he  read  Latin  fairly  well,  a  manual 
on  confession.  It  was  not  meant  for  half -fed  choir 
boys.  More  fascinating  were  the  confessions  of  one 
Rousseau  — •  a  highly  educative  book  for  a  clever  boy 
of  sixteen.  At  this  age  Franqois  was  a  long-legged, 
active  fellow,  a  keen-witted  domestic  brigand,  expert 
in  providing  for  his  wants,  and  eagerly  desirous  of 
seeing  more  of  the  outside  world,  of  the  ways  of 
which  he  was  so  ignorant.  The  procession  of  closely 
watched  boys  went  to  church  and  back  again  to  the 
old  house  at  least  once  a  day,  and  this  was  his  only 


12       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

glimpse  of  the  entertaining  life  of  the  streets.  When 
left  to  himself,  he  liked  best  in  good  weather  to  sit 
at  the  open  attic  window  and  watch  the  cats  on  the 
roofs  across  the  way.  So  near  were  the  houses  that 
he  could  toss  a  bone  or  a  crust  on  to  the  roof  oppo 
site,  and  delight  to  see  these  Ishmaelites  contend  for 
the  prize.  He  grew  to  know  them,  so  that  they 
would  come  at  dusk  to  the  roof-edge,  and  contem 
plate  dietetic  possibilities  with  eager  and  luminous 
eyes.  Being  versed  in  the  Bible,  as  all  good  choir 
boys  should  be,  he  found  names  for  his  feline  friends 
which  fitted  their  qualities ;  for  there,  among  the  chim 
neys,  was  a  small  world  of  stirring  life  which  no  man 
disturbed.  He  saw  battles,  jealousies,  greediness,  and 
loves.  Constancy  was  not  there.  Solomon  of  the 
many  wives  was  king  of  the  tiles ;  a  demure  blue  cat 
was  Susannah,  for  good  reasons ;  and  there,  too,  were 
the  elders.  It  might  have  seemed  to  some  pitiful 
angel  a  sad  picture  —  this  poor  lad  in  the  grasp  of 
temptations,  but  made  for  better  chances,  finding  his 
utmost  joy  in  the  distant  company  of  these  lean  Arabs 
of  the  desert  housetops. 


Ill 

Of  the  misfortunes  caused  &//  loss  of  a  voice,  and  of  how 
a  cat  and  a  damsel  got  Francois  into  trouble  —  where 
upon,  preferring  the  world  to  a  monastery,  he  ran 
away  from  the  choristers  of  Notre  Dame. 

was  in  the  month  of  June,  in  the  year 
1784,  that  a  female  got  him  into  trouble, 
and  aided  to  bring  about  a  decision  as 
to  his  future.  This  was,  however,  only 
one  of  the  distressing  incidents  which 
at  the  time  affected  his  career,  and  was  not  his  final 
experience  of  the  perils  to  which  attention  to  the 
other  sex  may  expose  the  unwary.  A  few  days  be 
fore  the  sad  event  which  brought  about  a  change  in 
Francois's  life,  he  was  engaged  in  singing  one  of  the 
noble  Gregorian  chants.  Never  had  he  used  his  voice 
with  greater  satisfaction.  He  was  always  pleased 
and  eagerly  ambitious  when  in  the  choir,  and  was 
then  at  his  best.  This  day  it  seemed  to  him,  as  he 
sang,  that  his  clear  tones  rose  like  a  bird,  and  that 
something  of  him  was  soaring  high  among  the  reso 
nant  arches  overhead.  Of  a  sudden  his  voice  broke 
into  a  shrill  squeak.  The  choir-master  shook  a  finger 
at  him,  and  he  fell  into  a  dead  silence,  and  sang  no 

13 


14       THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

more  that  morning.  The  little  white-robed  proces 
sion  marched  out,  and  when  it  reached  the  gray  old 
house  there  was  wrath  and  consternation  over  the 
broken  treble.  He  was  blamed  and  beaten ;  but,  after 
all,  it  was  a  too  likely  misfortune.  If  it  chanced  again 
he  must  go  to  the  Dominican  convent  at  Auteuil,  and 
perhaps  in  a  year  or  two  would  be  lucky  enough  to  get 
back  his  voice.  Meanwhile  let  him  take  care.  Poor 
Fran9ois  did  his  best;  but  a  week  later,  amid  the 
solemnity  of  a  mass  for  the  dead,  came  once  more 
that  fatal  break  in  the  voice.  He  knew  that  his  fate 
was  sealed. 

Little  was  said  this  time,  but  he  overheard  the 
head  of  the  choir  arranging  with  Tomas  the  steward 
that  the  boy  should  go  to  Auteuil.  Until  then  he  was 
no  longer  to  serve  in  the  choir. 

Fra^ois  had  seen  all  this  occur  before,  when,  as 
was  common,  some  little  singer  lost  control  of  his 
changing  voice.  His  case  was  hopeless.  Yet  here 
was  an  idle  time  and  no  more  singing-lessons.  But 
a  part  of  the  small  joys  of  a  life  not  rich  in  happy 
moments  was  gone,  to  come  back  no  more,  as  he  knew 
too  well.  Of  late  his  fine  quality  of  song  had  won 
him  some  indulgence,  and  he  had  learned  how  much 
a  fine  voice  might  mean.  Dim  visions  began  to  open 
before  him,  as  he  heard  of  how  choir-boys  had  con 
quered  fame  and  wealth  in  France  or  elsewhere.  One 
day  the  leader  of  the  choir  had  praised  him  and  his 
diligence,  and  hoped  he  would  never  leave  them.  He 
was  told  what  a  great  possession  was  a  voice  like  his, 
and  had  even  been  envied  by  the  less  gifted.  Now 
this  possession  was  taken  from  him,  and  he  was  at 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS       15 

once  made  sadly  aware  of  his  loss.  His  vanity,  al 
ways  great,  was  wounded  to  the  quick.  A  little 
kindness  would  have  led  him  to  go  to  the  convent 
and  hopefully  bide  his  time;  but  nobody  cared,  or 
seemed  to  care,  for  him,  or  to  pity  what  to  his  active 
imagination  was  a  fatal  wreck  of  goodly  chances. 

For  a  day  or  two  he  went  about  disconsolate,  and 
was  set  to  serve  in  the  kitchen  or  to  wait  on  the  man 
Tomas,  who  jeered  at  his  squeaky  voice,  and  called 
him  "little  pig,"  with  additions  of  some  coarser 
amenities  of  language,  and  certain  information  as 
to  the  convent  life  of  a  lay  servant  ill  calculated  to 
make  Auteuil  appear  desirable. 

In  his  leisure  hours,  which  now  were  many,  Fran 
cois  took  refuge  from  the  jests  of  his  fellows  in  the 
lonely  garret.  The  people  across  the  way  in  their 
rooms  amused  him.  The  cats  were  never  long  ab 
sent.  He  watched  their  cunning  search  for  the  nests 
of  the  sparrows,  and  very  soon  began  to  feel  again 
the  invincible  lifting  power  of  his  comic  nature. 
Some  remembrance  of  the  alarm  in  the  choir-master's 
face  when  his  voice  broke  came  upon  Frai^ois,  and 
he  began  to  laugh.  Just  then  he  saw  Solomon  on 
the  roof  opposite.  The  master  of  a  populous  harem 
was  in  the  company  of  the  two  naughty  elders.  Su 
sannah,  behind  a  chimney,  was  making  her  modest 
toilet  with  a  skilful  tongue.  He  called  her,  and  held 
up  a  tempting  bone.  The  shy  maiden  hesitated. 
He  called,  "  Suzanne,  Suzanne  !  "  to  bring  her  to  the 
edge  of  the  tiled  roof  and  near  enough  to  make  sure 
that  the  elders  would  not  capture  her  desired  prize. 

As  he  called,  a  little  grisette  who  was  hanging  out 


16       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FKANgOIS 

clothes  to  dry  kissed  her  hand  to  the  boy.  Francois 
had  seen  her  before.  She  was  not  attractive.  He 
liked  his  cats  better.  "  Suzanne,  Suzanne ! "  he 
called,  as  the  virgin,  looking  about  her,  daintily 
picked  her  way  to  the  edge.  High  on  the  roof-top, 
Solomon  exhorted  the  elders,  and  in  a  moment  backs 
were  humped,  and  claws  out,  and  there  was  bad  lan 
guage  used,  which  may  have  been  Hebrew,  but  at  all 
events  appeared  to  be  sufficiently  expressive;  for 
the  elders  and  Solomon,  of  a  sudden  rolling  over  in  a 
wild  scuffle,  disappeared  on  the  farther  side  of  the  roof. 
This  was  the  maid's  opportunity,  and  gratefully  lick 
ing  her  anticipative  chops,  she  crawled  to  the  gutter. 

"Bonne  Suzanne!  Viens  done!  Come,  come,  Su 
zanne  !  "  cried  the  boy. 

Of  a  sudden  a  smart  box  on  the  ear  broke  up  this 
pretty  love-affair.  There  stood  Tomas. 

"  A  nice  choir-boy  !  Talking  with  that  beast  of  a 
grisette  ! "  Then  there  were  more  liberal  whacks  as 
the  boy,  in  a  rage,  was  dragged  away,  and  bidden  to 
come  down-stairs  and  carry  to  market  the  nets  used 
in  place  of  baskets.  Tomas  usually  went  alone  to 
buy  provisions,  but  now  the  choir-boy  was  free  and 
could  be  made  of  use. 

Fran9ois  uttered  no  complaint.  It  was  literally 
the  only  time  he  had  had  a  chance  to  be  in  the 
streets,  except  as  part  of  the  procession  to  and  from 
the  church.  He  was  sore;  angry,  and  resentful  of  the 
ill  usage  which  in  the  last  few  days  had  taken  the 
place  of  the  growing  respect  his  talent  had  created. 
He  took  the  nets  and  his  cap,  and  followed  Tomas. 
"  What  a  chance ! "  he  thought  to  himself. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS       17 

The  boy  concealed  the  delight  he  felt,  and  followed 
the  steward,  who  went  down  to  the  river  and  across 
it  to  the  open  market  on  the  farther  bank.  He 
stopped  here  and  there  to  buy  provisions  and  to  chat 
with  the  market-women.  When  one  of  them,  pleased 
with  the  odd-looking  lad,  gave  him  an  apple,  Tomas 
took  it  from  him.  Frai^ois  laughed,  which  seemed 
always  to  offend  the  saturnine  steward.  He  could 
not  destroy  the  pleasure  of  the  gay  market  for  Fran- 
9ois,  who  made  queer  faces  at  the  mistresses  of  the 
stalls,  teased  the  dogs  and  cats  for  sale  in  cages,  and 
generally  made  himself  happy  until  they  came  home 
again. 

But  from  this  time  onward,  except  for  these  ex 
cursions,  his  life  was  made  miserable  enough.  He 
was  the  slave  of  Tomas,  and  was  cruelly  reminded 
day  after  day  of  the  misery  of  him  who  has  a  servant 
for  his  master. 

At  last  he  learned  that  the  time  was  near  when  he 
must  go  to  Auteuil.  His  voice  had  been  tested  again, 
and  he  had  been  told  that  there  was  small  hope  of  its 
return.  He  began  to  think  of  escape.  Once  he  was 
sent  alone  011  an  errand  to  a  shop  near  by.  He 
lingered  to  see  some  street-jugglers,  and  paid  for  it 
with  a  day  in  a  damp  cellar.  Within  this  sad  home 
he  now  found  only  reproaches  and  unthanked  labor. 
The  choristers  laughed  at  him,  and  the  happier  boys 
mocked  his  changed  voice.  On  the  day  after  his  last 
experience  of  the  cellar,  he  was  told  by  Tomas  to  be 
ready  to  go  to  Auteuil,  and  was  ordered  once  again 
to  follow  the  steward  to  market.  He  took  up  the 
nets  and  went  after  him.  The  lad  looked  back  at 


18       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

the  choir-house.  He  meant  to  see  it  no  more.  He 
was  now  seventeen,  and  in  the  three  years  of  his  stay 
had  learned  many  things,  some  good  and  some  bad. 

They  went  past  Notre  Dame  to  the  quai,  and 
through  rows  of  stalls  along  the  shores  of  the  Seine. 
Tomas  soon  filled  the  nets,  which  were  hung  over 
Francois's  shoulders.  Meanwhile  the  chattering 
women,  the  birds  and  cages,  the  flowers,  the  moving, 
many-colored  crowd,  amused  or  pleased  the  boy,  but 
by  no  means  turned  him  from  his  purpose. 

"  Come ! "  cried  Tomas,  and  began  to  elbow  his 
way  through  the  noisy  people  on  the  river-bank. 
Presently  Fra^ois  got  behind  him,  and  noting  his 
chances  with  a  ready  eye,  slipped  through  between 
the  booths  and  darted  up  the  Seine. 


IV 


Of  how  the  world  used  Francois,  and  of  the  reward  of 
virtue.    He  makes  liis  first  friend. 


EN  Tomas,  having  won  his  way  out  of 
the  press  about  a  fortune-teller,  looked 
for  Franqois,  there  was  a  lost  choir-boy 
and  two  days'  diet  gone  none  knew 
whither  —  least  of  all  the  fugitive.  He 
moved  away  with  the  speed  of  fear,  and  was  soon  in 
the  somber  network  of  narrow  streets  which  in  those 
days  made  a  part  of  the  tie  de  la  Cite  the  refuge  of  the 
finest  assortment  of  thieves,  bravos,  gypsies,  and  low 
women  to  be  found  in  any  capital  of  Europe. 

His  scared  looks  and  decent  black  suit  betrayed 
him.  An  old  fellow  issued  from  a  doorway  like  a 
spider.  "  Ha,  ha,  little  thief  !  "  he  said  ;  "  I  will  buy 
thy  plunder." 

Franqois  was  well  pleased.  He  took  eagerly  the 
ten  sous  offered,  and  saw  the  spider  poke  a  long  red 
beak  into  the  loaded  nets  as  he  passed  out  of  sight 
in  the  dark  doorway.  Francois  looked  at  the  money. 
It  was  the  first  he  had  ever  owned.  He  walked 
away  in  haste,  happy  to  be  free,  and  so  over  a  bridge 
to  the  lie  St.  Louis,  with  its  pretty  gardens  and  the 

19 


20  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS 

palaces  of  the  great  nobles.  At  the  far  end  of  the 
isle  he  sat  down  in  the  sun  and  watched  the  red 
barges  go  by,  and  took  no  more  care  for  to-morrow 
than  does  a  moth  just  out  of  its  cocoon.  He  caught 
up  the  song  of  a  man  near  by  who  was  mending  a 
bateau.  He  whistled  as  he  cast  stones  into  the  water. 
It  was  June,  and  warm,  and  before  him  the  river 
playing  with  the  sunset  gold,  and  behind  him  the 
dull  roar  of  Paris.  Ah,  the  pleasure  to  do  as  he 
would!  Why  had  he  waited  so  long"? 

Toward  night  he  wandered  back  into  the  Cite",  and 
saw  an  old  woman  selling  fried  potatoes,  and  crying, 
"  Two  sous,  two  sous  ! "  He  asked  for  thus  much, 
and  received  them  in  the  top  of  his  cap.  The  hag 
took  his  ten-sou  piece,  and  told  him  to  begone. 
Amazed  at  this  bit  of  villainy,  poor  Francois  en 
treated  her  to  give  him  his  change.  She  called  him 
a  thief,  and  when  a  dreadful  man  sallied  out  of  a 
wine-shop  and  made  murderous  threats,  the  boy  ran 
as  fast  as  he  could  go,  and  never  ceased  until  he  got 
to  the  river  again.  There,  like  Suzanne,  he  kept 
watch  for  the  foes  of  property,  and  at  last  ate  his 
potatoes,  and  began  to  reflect  on  this  last  lesson  in 
morality.  He  had  stolen  many  morsels,  many  din 
ners,  and  his  fair  share  of  wine;  but  to  be  himself 
robbed  of  his  entire  means  was  calculated  to  enlarge 
his  views  of  what  is  possible  in  life,  and  also  unde 
sirable.  The  night  was  warm;  he  slept  well  in  an 
abandoned  barge,  but  woke  up  early  to  feel  that  lib 
erty  had  its  drawbacks,  and  that  emptiness  of  stomach 
was  one  of  the  large  family  of  needs  which  stimulate 
the  ingenuity  of  man  or  boy. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS       21 

Quite  at  a  loss,  he  wandered  once  more  through 
the  slums  of  the  Cite,  and  soon  lost  himself  in  the 
network  of  narrow  streets  to  the  north  of  the  cathe 
dral,  hearing,  as  he  went,  strange  slang,  which  his 
namesake  Fraii9ois  Villon  would  have  better  under 
stood  than  he.  The  filth  of  the  roadways  and  that 
of  the  tongue  were  here  comparable.  Some  boys, 
seeing  his  sober  suit  of  the  dark  cloth  worn  by  the 
choir,  pelted  him  with  stones.  He  ran  for  his  life, 
and  falling  over  a  man  who  was  sawing  wood,  re 
ceived  a  kick  for  remembrance.  Far  away  he  paused 
breathless  in  a  dark  lane  which  seemed  unpeopled, 
and  where  the  houses  leaned  over  like  palsied  old 
scoundrels  who  whisper  to  one  another  of  ancient 
crime.  Even  to  a  boy  the  place  was  of  a  sudden 
terrible.  There  was  murder  in  the  air. 

He  felt,  without  knowing  why,  the  danger  of  the 
place.  A  painted  creature,  half  clad,  came  out  of  a 
house  —  a  base  animal  whom  the  accident  of  sex  had 
made  a  woman.  She  called  to  him  to  come  in.  He 
turned  and  went  by  her  in  haste  and  horror.  A  man 
in  a  red  shirt  ran  toward  him,  crying  out  some  or 
dures  of  speech.  As  he  fled  there  was  a  sudden 
peopling  of  window  and  doorway  with  half-naked 
drunken  men  and  women.  He  had  never  before  seen 
such  faces.  He  was  in  that  pit  of  crime  and  bestiality 
which  before  long  was  to  overflow  and  riot  in  a  lim 
itless  debauch  of  blood.  The  boy's  long  legs  served 
him  well.  He  dodged  and  ran  this  way  and  that. 
At  the  mouth  of  the  cul-de-sac  a  lank  boy  caught  him 
by  the  arm.  Frai^ois  struck  him  fiercely,  and  with 
a  sense  of  joy  in  the  competence  of  the  first  blow  lie 


22  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

had  ever  given  one  of  his  own  years,  he  fled  again ; 
nor  did  he  pause  until,  free  from  foes,  he  stood  pant 
ing  in  the  open  sunshine  below  the  great  buttresses 
of  Notre  Dame. 

He  saw  here  that  no  one  took  notice  of  him,  and, 
once  more  at  ease,  crossed  from  the  Cite  to  the  right 
bank  of  the  Seine.  Thus  wandering  he  came  at  last 
to  one  of  the  low  bridges  which  spanned  the  broad 
ditches  then  bounding  the  Place  Louis  XV,  where 
now  is  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  The  ducks  and 
swans  in  these  canals  delighted  him.  He  lingered, 
liking  the  gaiety  and  careless  joy  of  the  children  with 
their  nurses.  The  dogs,  acrobats,  musketeers,  and 
the  pomp  of  heavy,  painted  carriages  rolling  by  with 
servants  in  liveries,  the  Swiss  guards,  the  magnifi 
cence  of  the  king's  palace,  were  all  to  him  as  a  new 
world  might  have  been. 

He  went  on,  and  at  last  along  the  Rue  St.  Honore 
and  to  the  Palais  Royal,  where,  amid  its  splendid 
shops,  cafes,  jugglers,  fortune-tellers,  and  richly  clad 
people,  he  forgot  for  an  hour  his  poor  little  stomach 
and  its  claims.  By  and  by  he  took  note  of  the  suc 
cess  of  a  blind  beggar.  He  watched  him  for  an  hour, 
and  knew  that  he  had  in  this  time  gathered  in  sous 
at  least  a  franc.  The  shrunken  stomach  of  the  boy 
began  to  convert  its  claims  into  demands,  and  with 
this  hint  he  put  on  a  sad  face  and  began  to  beg.  It 
was  not  a  very  prosperous  business;  but  he  stated 
his  emptiness  so  pitifully,  and  his  voice  had  such 
sweet,  pleading  notes,  that  at  last  he  thus  acquired 
six  or  eight  sous,  and  retired  to  the  outer  gate  to 
count  them. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       23 

The  imprudence  of  estimating  wealth  in  public  was 
soon  made  clear  to  him.  He  was  seated  back  of  the 
open  grille,  his  cap  on  his  lap,  when  a  quick,  clawlike 
hand,  thrust  between  the  railings,  darted  over  his 
shoulder,  and  seized  two  thirds  of  his  gains.  He 
started  up  in  time  to  see  that  the  thief  was  the  blind 
beggar,  who  was  away  and  lost  in  the  crowd  and 
among  the  horses  and  carriages,  to  all  appearances 
in  excellent  possession  of  the  sense  of  sight.  Pursuit 
was  vain.  Frai^ois's  education  was  progressing.  Most 
lads  thus  tormented  by  fate  would  have  given  way 
to  rage  or  tears.  Francis  cried  out,  "  Satkanas  ! " 
not  knowing  as  yet  any  worse  expletive,  and  burst 
into  a  roar  of  laughter.  At  least  there  were  three 
sous  left,  and  these  he  put  into  his  pocket.  His  les 
sons  were  not  over.  The  crowd  thinned  at  noon,  and 
he  rose  to  go  in  search  of  food.  At  this  moment  a 
gentleman  in  very  gorgeous  dress,  with  ruffles,  sword, 
and  a  variety  of  dazzling  splendors,  went  by,  and  at 
the  boy's  feet  let  fall  a  lace  handkerchief.  Franqois 
seized  it,  and  stood  still  a  moment.  Then  he  put  it 
in  his  breast,  and  again  stood  still.  To  take  food  is 
one  thing;  to  steal  a  handkerchief  is  quite  another. 
He  was  weak  with  hunger,  but  he  had  three  sous. 
He  ran  after  the  gentleman,  and  cried : 

"  Here  is  your  handkerchief !  " 

"A  very  honest  lad,"  said  its  owner;  "you  will 
do  well  in  the  world  " ;  and  so  went  his  way,  leaving 
to  virtue  the  proverbial  reward  of  virtue.  This  time 
Fran9ois  did  not  laugh.  In  the  Rue  St.  Honore  he 
bought  some  boiled  beans  for  two  sous,  and  retired 
to  eat  them  in  peace  on  the  steps  of  St.  Roch.  Soon 


24 

he  saw  a  woman  with  a  tin  pan  come  out  of  a  little 
shop  and  after  her  a  half -grown  black  poodle.  She 
set  down  the  pan;  and  left  the  dog  to  his  meal. 
Francois  reconnoitered  cautiously,  and  giving  the 
dog  a  little  kick,  fled  with  the  pan,  and  was  shortly 
safe  in  an  unfrequented  passage  behind  the  church. 
Here  he  found  that  he  was  master  of  a  chop  and  a 
half-eaten  leg  of  chicken.  He  had  eaten  the  chop  and 
some  crusts,  as  well  as  the  beans,  when  he  became 
aware  of  the  black  poodle,  which,  being  young,  still 
had  confidence  in  human  nature,  and  now,  with  sense 
of  ownership,  thrust  his  black  nose  in  the  pan  of 
lessening  viands. 

Fran9ois  laughed  gaily.  The  touch  of  friendly 
trust  gave  the  lonely  boy  a  thrill  of  joy,  and,  witli 
some  reluctance  doubtless,  he  gave  the  dog  what  was 
left,  feeding  him  in  bits,  and  talking  as  a  comrade  to 
a  comrade.  The  poodle  was  clearly  satisfied.  This 
was  very  delightful  society,  and  he  was  receiving 
such  attention  as  flatters  a  decent  dog's  sense  of  his 
social  position.  The  diet  was  less  than  usual,  but 
the  company  was  of  the  best,  and  inspired  the  ex 
treme  of  confidence.  There  is  a  charm  of  equality  as 
between  dog  and  boy.  Both  are  of  Bohemia.  The 
poodle  stood  up  when  asked  to  beg.  He  was  invited 
to  reveal  his  name.  He  received  with  the  sympa 
thetic  sadness  of  the  motionless  tail  the  legend  of 
Francois's  woes. 

When  at  last  Francois  rose,  the  dog  followed  him 
a  little  way,  saying  plainly,  "  Where  thou  goest  I  will 
go."  But  the  unlicked  pan  needed  attention ;  he 
turned  back  to  the  fleshpots.  Seeing  himself  de- 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS  25 

serted,  a  vague  sadness  came  upon  Frangois.  It  was 
the  shadow  of  an  uncomprehended  emotion.  He 
said,  "  Adieu,  mon  ami ! "  and  left  the  little  black 
fellow  with  his  nose  in  the  pan. 

An  hour  of  wandering  here  and  there  brought 
Frangois  to  the  palisades  around  the  strong  founda 
tions  of  the  new  church  of  the  Madeleine.  Beyond 
were  scattered  country  houses,  the  Pepinieres  of  the 
king,  and  the  great  English  garden  of  Monceaux 
belonging  to  the  Due  d'Orleans.  This  fascinating 
stretch  of  trees  and  green  and  boundless  country 
was  like  a  heavenly  land  to  the  boy.  No  dream 
could  be  more  strange.  He  set  out  by  the  Rue  de  la 
Pologne,  and  at  last  went  with  timid  doubt  through 
the  barriere,  and  was  soon  in  the  open  country.  To 
his  surprise,  he  heard  a  yap  at  his  side,  and  there 
was  the  little  black  poodle,  apparently  as  well  pleased 
as  he.  Francois  had  no  scruples  as  to  ownership. 
Mon  Dieu !  had  he  stolen  the  dog,  or  had  the  dog 
stolen  him  ?  They  ran  along  happy,  the  boy  as  little 
troubled  as  the  dog  by  questions  of  conscience.  The 
country  was  not  productive  of  easily  won  food,  but 
a  few  stolen  plums  were  to  be  had.  A  girl  coming 
from  milking  gave  a  jug  of  milk,  which  Frangois, 
despite  keen  hunger,  shared  with  his  friend.  When 
a  couple  of  miles  from  Paris,  he  sat  down  to  rest  by 
the  roadside.  The  dog  leaped  on  to  his  lap,  and  the 
boy,  as  he  lay  in  the  sun,  began  to  think  of  a  name 
for  this  new  friend.  He  tried  merrily  all  the  dog- 
names  he  could  think  of ;  but  when  at  last  he  called, 
"  Toto ! "  the  poodle  barked  so  cordially  that  Fran- 
9ois  sagaciously  inclined  to  the  belief  that  he  must 


26  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANQOIS 

have  hit  upon  the  poodle's  name.  "  Toto  it  shall  be," 
he  cried.  All  that  day  they  wandered  joyfully, 
begged  a  crust,  and  at  night  slept  in  an  orchard, 
the  poodle  clasped  to  the  boy's  bosom  —  a  pair  of 
happy  vagabonds. 

When,  next  day,  the  pair  of  them,  half  starved, 
were  disconsolately  returning  toward  Paris,  an  old 
woman  bade  Francois  earn  a  few  sons  by  picking 
strawberries.  But  the  dog  must  not  range  the  garden'; 
he  should  be  tied  in  the  kitchen.  Francois  worked 
hard  at  the  matter  in  hand,  taking  good  toll  of  the 
berries,  and  at  noon  went  back  with  the  old  dame  to 
her  cottage. 

"It  is  five  sous,  mon  gar^on,  and  a  bowl  of  milk 
thou  shalt  have,  and  a  bit  of  meat ;  and  how  merry 
thou  art ! " 

Alas !  as  she  opened  the  door  the  poodle  fled  past 
her  with  a  whole  steak  in  his  mouth.  Hot  it  was, 
but  of  such  delicate  savor  that  it  gave  him  courage 
to  hold  on.  The  old  woman  threw  a  stool  after  him, 
and  cried  out  in  wrath  that  they  were  both  thieves. 
Then  she  turned  on  poor  Francois  with  fury  and  a 
broom,  so  that  he  had  scarce  time  to  leap  the  fence 
and  follow  the  dog.  He  found  him  at  last  with  his 
rather  dusty  prize  ;  and  seeing  no  better  thing  to  do, 
he  went  deep  into  a  wood,  and  there  filled  himself  as 
he  had  not  done  for  days.  The  brigand  Toto  had 
his  share,  and  thus  reinforced,  they  set  out  again  to 
return  to  Paris. 


Of  the  immorality  which  may  come  of  an  empty  stom 
ach,  and  of  lioiv  Francois  became  acquainted  ivith  a 
human  crab. 

1HIS  nomad  life  was  sadly  uncertain  ;  but 
Toto  was  a  sharp  forager,  aud  what 
with  a  sou  begged  here  and  there,  and 
the  hospitality  of  summer,  for  a  while 
they  were  not  ill  contented.  But  at  last 
Fran9ois  passed  two  days  of  such  lean  living  as  set 
his  wits  to  work.  There  was  clearly  110  help  for  it, 
and  with  a  rueful  face  he  entered  the  shop  whence 
Toto  had  followed  his  uncertain  fortunes. 

The  owner  was  a  pleasant  little  woman  who  took 
honesty  for  granted.  Yes,  it  was  her  dog ;  and  how 
long  he  had  been  gone !  Here  was  a  great  piece  of 
twenty  sous ;  and  where  did  he  find  the  poodle  ? 
Fraii9ois  declared  that  he  lived  near  by  and  knew 
the  dog.  He  had  found  him  in  the  Rue  du  Faubourg 
St.  Lazare.  And  was  it  so  far  away  as  that?  He 
must  be  tired,  and  for  his  honesty  should  be  well  fed. 
Thus,  rich  as  never  before,  and  with  a  full  stomach, 
he  left  Toto  tied  up,  and  went  out  into  the  world 
again,  lonely  and  sad. 

27 


28  THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FKANgOIS 

Needless  is  it  to  describe  his  wanderings,  or  to  re 
late  how  the  lonely  lad  acquired  the  sharp  ways  of  a 
gamin  of  the  streets.  For  a  while  he  begged  or  stole 
what  food  he  required.  Some  four  months  later,  a 
combination  of  motives  led  him  into  theft  which  was 
not  mere  foraging. 

On  a  cold  November  day  he  was  again  in  the 
crowded  gardens  and  arcades  of  the  Palais  Eoyal. 
He  was  shabby  enough  by  this  time,  and  was  sharply 
reminded  by  the  cool  nights  of  the  need  for  shelter. 
By  chance  his  eye  lighted  on  the  man  who  shammed 
blindness  and  had  stolen  his  precious  sous.  The 
beggar  was  kneeling,  cap  in  hand,  with  closed  eyes, 
his  head  turned  upward,  entreating  pity  for  his 
loss  of  sight.  There  were  some  sous  in  his  cap.  As 
Frangois  passed  he  made  believe  to  add  another  sou, 
and  as  he  did  so  deftly  scooped  up  the  greater  part 
of  the  coins. 

The  blind  man  cried  out;  but  the  boy  skipped 
aside,  laughing,  well  aware  that  for  the  beggar  to 
pursue  him  would  be  hardly  advisable,  as  he  might 
lose  more  than  he  could  gain. 

A  few  sous  were  of  small  account.  They  insured 
a  meal,  but  not  a  lodging.  As  he  was  thus  reflecting, 
he  saw  near  by  and  presently  beside  him  the  gentle 
man  who  had  so  highly  appreciated  the  return  of  his 
handkerchief.  The  coat  pockets  were  large  in  those 
days,  and  the  crowd  was  great.  A  little  white  corner 
of  lace  besought  Master  Frangois,  crying,  "  I  am  food 
and  lodging  for  thee ! "  Whereupon  it  was  done,  and 
a  lace  handkerchief  changed  owners. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  these  downward  steps  cost 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS       29 

Francois  any  moral  discomfort.  He  grinned  as  he 
thought  of  the  beggar's  perplexity,  and  laughed  out 
right  as  he  felt  how  complete  had  been  his  own  joy 
in  the  satisfaction  of  possession  could  he  have  made  the 
owner  of  the  kerchief  understand  that  he  had  suffered 
not  merely  a  theft,  but  the  punishment  of  injustice. 

Franqois  was  now  too  well  versed  in  the  ways  of  the 
street-boy,  too  dirty  and  too  ragged,  to  fear  the  Cite. 
Thither  he  went,  and  found  a  thieves'  shop,  where  he 
sold  the  handkerchief,  and  got  ten  francs  for  what 
was  worth  thirty. 

The  question  of  a  place  where  he  could  be  sure  of 
a  bed  was  his  first  consideration  on  coining  into  his 
fortune.  In  the  long,  warm  summers  of  France  one 
who  was  not  particular  could  find  numerous  roost- 
ing-places,  but  in  winter  a  more  constant  home  was 
to  be  desired. 

In  the  Cite  Fra^ois  had  occasionally  lodged  here 
and  there  when  he  could  afford  to  pay,  and  had  been 
turned  out  when  he  had  no  more  sous.  Now,  being 
affluent,  and  therefore  hard  to  please,  he  wandered 
until  he  came  upon  the  lodging-house  of  an  old 
woman  in  the  Rue  Perpignan.  He  knew  of  her  as 
a  dealer  in  thieves'  goods,  and  as  ever  ready  to  shelter 
the  lucky  —  and,  it  was  suspected,  as  willing  to  betray 
those  who  were  persistently  unfortunate. 

What  drew  him  to  this  woman's  house  it  were  hard 
to  tell.  She  was  repulsive  in  appearance,  but, 
strangely  enough,  was  clean  as  to  her  person,  dress, 
and  abode.  Asylum  life  had  taught  Fraii9ois  to  be 
cleanly.  He  declares  in  his  memoirs  that  he  was  by 
habit  neat,  and  that  it  was  the  absence  of  dirt  which 


30       THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

first  tempted  him  into  a  relation  which  was  so  largely 
to  affect  his  after  life. 

When  he  became  one  of  this  woman's  lodgers  he 
took  a  step  which  was  for  him  of  moment.  Now  for 
the  first  time  he  was  to  be  in  the  company  of  old  and 
practised  thieves ;  but  he  was  not  yet  of  an  age  to  be 
troubled  as  to  the  future  or  to  reflect  upon  the  past. 
The  horizon  of  youth  is  small. 

He  found  plenty  of  masters  to  educate  him  in  the 
evil  business  into  which  he  had  been  driven  by  re 
lentless  fate.  Never  was  pupil  more  ready.  His 
hostess  appreciated  the  cleverness  of  her  new  lodger, 
but  it  was  long  before  he  himself  realized  how 
strange  was  the  aspect  and  how  sinister  the  nature 
of  this  mother  of  evil. 

Certain  historical  epochs  create  types  of  face.  This 
was  a  period  which  manufactured  many  singular 
visages.  None  was  more  strange  than  that  which 
Mine.  Quatre  Pattes  carried  on  a  body  quite  as  re 
markable.  Fran9ois  speaks  of  her  over  and  over  in 
his  memoirs,  and  dwells  upon  the  peculiarities  of  her 
appearance.  I  recall  well  what  he  said  to  me,  one 
evening,  of  this  creature  : 

"You  see,  monsieur,  I  went  to  one  den  of  thieves 
and  another  until  I  chanced  upon  the  Crab.  It  is 
not  to  be  described ;  for  here  in  a  little  room  was  a 
witch,  crumpled  and  deformed,  sharply  bent  forward 
as  to  the  back  from  the  waist,  and  —  ah,  didblement 
thin  !  She  was  cleanly  and  even  neat,  and  her  room 
was  a  marvel,  because  over  there  in  the  Cite  men  were 
born  and  lived  and  died,  and  never  saw  a  clean  thing. 
And  she  was  of  a  strangeness  —  consider,  monsieur  ; 
imagine  you  a  bald  head,  and  a  lean  face  below,  very 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       31 

red,  and  the  skin  drawn  so  tight  over  the  bones  as  to 
shine.  Her  eyes  were  little  and  of  a  dull  gray ;  but 
they  held  you.  Her  lips  were  lean,  and  she  kept  them 
moving  in  a  queer  way  as  if  chewing.  I  did  laugh 
when  first  I  saw  her,  but  not  often  afterward." 

When  he  confided  to  this  clean  and  horrible  crea 
ture  what  he  wanted,  she  made  him  welcome.  She 
rattled  the  two  sticks  which  her  bent  form  made 
needful  for  support.  She  would  house  him  cheaply ; 
but  he  must  be  industrious  —  and  to  sell  a  lace  hand 
kerchief  for  ten  francs  —  tonnerre !  He  needed  cau 
tion.  She  would  be  a  bonne  niaman  to  him  —  she, 
Q  mitre  Pattes,  "four  paws "5  the  Crab,  they  called 
her,  too,  for  short,  and  because  of  her  red  leanness  and 
spite ;  but  what  was  her  real  name  he  did  not  learn 
for  many  a  day.  At  first  her  appearance  excited  in 
his  mind  no  emotion  except  amazement  and  mirth. 
A  terrible  old  crab  it  was  when  she.  showed  her 
toothless  gums  and  howled  obscenities,  while  her 
sticks  were  used  with  strange  agility.  The  quarter 
feared  her.  M.  Franqois  had  a  fortune  in  his  face, 
she  said;  and  did  he  know  the  savate,  the  art  to 
kick?  There  was  a  master  next  door.  And  again, 
what  a  face  !  With  that  face  he  might  lie  all  day, 
and  who  would  disbelieve  him  ?  Better  to  fetch  her 
what  he  stole.  She  would  see  that  no  one  cheated 
him  but  herself,  and  that  would  be  ever  so  little. 
One  must  live.  When  she  laughed,  which  was  not 
often,  Francois  felt  that  a  curse  were  more  gay. 
There  were  devil- women  in  those  days,  as  the  mad 
world  of  Paris  soon  came  to  know;  and  the  Crab, 
with  her  purple  nose  and  crooked  red  claws,  was 
of  the  worst. 


VI 

Of  how  Francois  regained  a  lost  friend,  and  of  his 
adventure  with  the  poet  Horace  and  another  gentle 
man. 

|HUS  Frangois  was  launched  on  what  he 
was  pleased  to  call  the  business  of  life, 
and  soon  became  expert  in  the  transfer 
of  property.  Strange  to  say,  he  had 
little  pleasure  in  the  debauchery  of  suc 
cessful  crime,  and  was  too  good-natured  to  like  vio 
lence.  When  he  had  enough  for  his  moderate  wants 
he  wandered  in  the  country,  here  and  there,  in  an 
aimless,  drifting  way.  Simple  things  gave  him  plea 
sure.  He  could  lie  in  the  woods  or  on  the  highway 
half  a  day,  only  moving  to  keep  in  the  sun.  He  liked 
to  watch  any  living  creature  —  to  see  the  cows  feed, 
to  observe  the  birds.  He  had  a  charm  for  all  animals. 
When  the  wagons  went  by,  dogs  deserted  them,  and 
came  to  him  for  a  touch  and  a  word.  Best  of  all  it 
was  to  sit  beside  some  peasant's  beehive,  finding  there 
no  enmity,  and  smiling  at  the  laborious  lives  he  had  no 
mind  to  imitate.  Sometimes  he  yearned  for  the  lost 
poodle,  and  had  a  pang  of  loneliness.  That  this  man 
should  have  had  gentle  tastes,  a  liking  for  nature,  a 

32 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS       33 

regard  for  some  of  the  decencies  of  life,  will  not  sur 
prise  those  who  know  well  the  many  varieties  of  the 
young  criminal  class ;  neither  will  these  be  amazed  to 
learn  that  now  and  then  he  heard  mass,  and  crossed 
himself  devoutly  when  there  was  occasion.  Children 
he  fascinated;  a  glance  of  his  long,  odd  face  would 
make  them  leave  nurse  and  toy,  and  sidle  up  to  him. 
In  the  Cite  these  singularities  made  him  avoided,  while 
his  growing  strength  caused  him  to  be  feared.  He 
sought  no  friends  among  the  thieves.  "  Very  pru 
dent,  that,"  said  Mme.  Quatre  Pattes ;  "  the  more 
friends,  the  more  enemies." 

He  was  quick  and  active,  and  a  shrewd  observer ; 
for  the  hard  life  of  the  streets  had  sharpened  his  natu 
rally  ready  wits,  and  he  looked  far  older  than  his 
years.  Of  a  Sunday  in  May  he  was  walking  down 
the  Rue  St.  Honore,  feeling  a  bit  lonely,  as  was  not 
often  the  case,  when  he  saw  Toto.  He  whistled,  and 
the  poodle  ran  to  him,  and  would  no  more  of  the 
shop  or  fat  food  he  liked. 

"  Toto  !  Mon  Dieu  !  "  he  laughed,  hugging  the  dog, 
his  eyes  full  with  the  tears  of  joy.  "Hast  stolen  me 
again  ?  Wilt  never  return  me  ?  'T  is  no  honest  dog. 
Viens  done.  Come,  then,  old  friend."  Joyous  in  the 
company  of  his  comrade,  who  was  now  well  grown, 
he  strolled  out  into  the  fields,  where  Toto  caught  a 
rabbit  —  a  terrible  crime  in  those  days. 

During  the  next  two  years  the  pair  fairly  pros 
pered.  Frai^ois,  as  he  used  to  relate,  having  risen 
in  his  profession,  found  a  certain  pleasure  in  good 
clothes,  and  being  of  a  dramatic  turn,  could  put 
on  an  air  of  bourgeois  sobriety,  or,  with  a  sword 

3 


34       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

at  his  side  and  a  bit  of  lace  here  and  there,  swag 
ger  as  a  lesser  gentleman.  If  things  were  very 
bad,  he  sold  Toto  and  all  his  fine  tricks  for  a  round 
sum,  and  in  a  day  or  two  was  sure  to  find  the  dog 
overjoyed  and  back  again  at  the  garret  door.  The 
pair  were  full  of  devices.  There  was  Toto,  a  plated 
snuff-box  in  his  mouth,  capering  before  some  old 
gentle  or  some  slow-pacing  merchant ;  appears  Fran- 
9ois,  resistlessly  smiling. 

"  Has  monsieur  lost  a  snuff-box  ?  My  dog  !  Yes, 
monsieur.  He  is  honest,  and  clever  too." 

Monsieur,  hastily  searching,  produces  his  own 
snuff-box  —  the  indispensable  snuff-box  of  the  day. 

"No;  thanks."  And  it  is  noted  that  the  box  he 
shows  is  of  gold,  and  into  what  pocket  it  falls.  In 
the  next  crowd  Toto  knows  how  to  make  a  disturb 
ance  with  some  fat  lap-dog,  and  in  the  confusion 
thus  created  the  snuff-box  changes  owners. 

"  If  the  man  be  sorry,  I  at  least  am  made  happy," 
says  Fraugois ;  "  and  he  hath  been  the  better  for  a 
lesson  in  caution.  I  got  what  I  needed,  and  he  what 
he  required.  Things  are  very  even  in  this  world." 
Francois  had  learned  philosophy  among  the  cures 
and  priests  of  the  choir-house.  As  he  avoided  great 
risks,  and,  as  I  have  said,  was  averse  to  violence,  he 
kept  clear  of  detection,  and  could  deceive  the  police 
of  the  king  if  by  rare  chance  he  were  in  peril  of  ar 
rest.  When  the  missing  property  was  some  minor 
article,  such  as  a  handkerchief,  it  was  instantly  hid 
in  Toto's  mouth.  The  dog  skipped  away,  the  out 
raged  master  was  searched ;  the  bewildered  owner 
apologized,  and  the  officers  were  shocked  at  such  a 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS       35 

needless  charge.  Frai^ois  talked  about  his  offended 
honor,  and  as  he  looked  at  twenty  to  be  a  strong 
man  of  full  age,  the  affair  was  apt  to  go  no  further. 

Half  the  cleverness  and  thought  thus  devoted  to 
an  ignoble  pursuit  would  have  given  him  success  in 
more  honest  ways.  But  for  a  long  while  no  angel 
chance  tempted  him,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  he 
enjoyed  the  game  he  pursued,  and  was  easily  con 
tented,  not  eagerly  caring  to  find  a  less  precarious 
and  less  risky  mode  of  life. 

Temperament  is  merely  a  permanent  mood.  Fran- 
9ois  was  like  the  month  of  June  in  his  dear  Paris. 
There  might  be  storms  and  changes,  but  his  mental 
weather  had  the  pleasant  insurance  of  what  was  in  the 
order  of  despotic  nature.  And  yet  to  be  owner  of  the 
continual  sunshine  of  cheerfulness  has  its  drawbacks. 
It  deprives  a  man  of  some  of  the  wholesome  lures  of 
life.  It  dulls  the  spurs  which  goad  us  to  resolve.  It 
may  make  calamity  too  easy  of  endurance.  To  be  too 
consistently  cheerful  may  be  in  itself  a  misfortune. 
It  had  for  this  vagrant  all  its  values  and  some  of  its 
defects.  His  simple,  gay  existence,  and  his  flow  of 
effervescent  merriment,  kept  him  happy  and  thought 
less.  Most  persons  of  this  rare  type  like  company; 
but  Frai^ois  was  an  exception.  He  was  better 
pleased  to  be  alone  with  his  dog,  and  usually  desired 
no  other  society.  As  the  poodle  could  not  talk,  his 
master  was  given  to  making  answer  for  him,  and 
finding  no  one  to  his  taste  among  the  Crab's  villain 
ous  lodgers,  kept  to  himself,  and  was  satisfied.  Nor 
did  he  ever  appear  to  have  imagined  what  the  larger 
world  he  knew  not  held  of  such  human  society  as 


36       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

would  have  comforted  that  sense  of  void  in  his  heart 
which  he  acknowledged  at  times,  but  had  no  way 
to  fill.  When  fortune  played  him  some  sorry  trick, 
he  laughed,  and  unconsciously  quoted  La  Rochefou 
cauld.  "  Toto,  ah,  my  Toto,  one  can  never  be  as  cun 
ning  as  everybody."  This  was  apropos  of  an  incident 
which  greatly  amused  him. 

He  was  in  his  favorite  resort,  the  Palais  Royal,  one 
June  morning,  and  was  at  this  time  somewhat  short 
of  cash.  The  Crab  had  preached  him  a  sharp  sermon 
on  his  lack  of  industry,  and  he  had  liked  neither  the 
sermon  nor  the  preacher.  At  this  moment  a  young 
fellow  in  fine  clothes  came  by.  Frai^ois,  producing, 
as  usual,  a  gaudy  snuff-box  worth  some  ten  francs, 
politely  asked  of  monsieur  had  he  lost  this  box. 
Monsieur  took  it  in  his  hand.  Yes,  yes ;  he  had  just 
missed  it,  the  gift  of  his  god-father,  and  was  much 
obliged.  He  let  it  fall  into  his  pocket,  and  walked 
away.  Fran9ois  looked  after  him.  "Toto,  nous 
sommes  voUs — we  are  sold!"  Then  the  fun  of  it,  as 
usual,  overcame  him,  and  he  wandered  away  to  the 
garden  of  the  Luxembourg,  and  at  last  threw  himself 
on  a  bench,  and  laughed  as  a  child  laughs,  being  for 
moments  quiet,  and  then  given  over  to  uncontrolled 
mirth.  Having  feasted  with  honest  comfort  on  all 
the  humorous  aspects  of  the  situation,  his  hand 
chanced  to  fall  on  a  little  book  left  by  some  one  on 
the  seat.  He  had  long  ceased  to  read,  for  no  books 
fell  in  his  way,  nor  could  he  often  have  afforded  to 
buy  them  even  had  he  had  a  keen  appetite  for  their 
contents. 

The   little   vellum-bound  volume   opened   to    his 


S  AM)  TOTO  IX  THE  LUXEMBOURG. 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS       39 

touch,  as  if  used  to  be  generous  of  what  it  held.  It 
was  Latin,  and  verse.  He  knew,  or  had  known, 
more  than  most  choir-boys  needed  of  this  tongue, 
and  the  talk  of  the  choir-house  was,  by  stringent 
rule,  in  Latin.  But  this  book  was  not  of  a  religious 
kind ,-  it  half  puzzled  his  mind  as  he  read.  Unac 
customed  to  profane  Latin  verse,  and  yet  wholly 
pleased,  he  began  to  murmur  aloud  the  rhythmic 
measures : 

' '  Poscimus,  si  quid  vacui  sub  umbra 
Lusimus  tecum,  quod  et  hunc  in  annum 
Vivat,  et  plures  :  age,  die  Latinum, 
Barbite,  carmen. 

u  It  hath  a  fine  sound,  mon  ami  ;  and  who  was  this 
Quintusf "  He  went  on  reading  aloud  the  delicious 
rhythms  for  the  joy  of  hearing  their  billowy  flow. 
Now  and  then  he  smiled  as  he  caught  the  full  mean 
ing  of  a  line. 

The  keen-faced  poodle  sat  on  the  bench  beside 
him,  with  a  caressing  head  laid  against  his  shoulder ; 
the  sun  was  sweet  and  warm,  the  roses  were  many. 
The  time  suited  the  book,  and  the  book  the  man. 
He  read  on,  page  after  page  of  the  beautiful  Aldine 
type,  now  and  then  pausing,  vexed  to  be  so  puzzled 
by  these  half-guessed  beautiful  riddles. 

"Toto,  my  dog,  I  would  thou  didst  know  Latin. 
This  man  he  loved  the  country,  and  good  wine,  and 
girls ;  and  he  had  friends  —  friends,  which  you  and 
I  have  not." 

Then  he  was  lost  for  an  hour.  At  last  he  ceased 
to  read,  and  sat  with  a  finger  in  the  book,  idly  drift 
ing  on  the  immortal  stream  of  golden  song. 


40       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

"That  must  have  been  a  merry  companion,  Toto. 
I  did  hear  of  him  once  in  the  choir-house.  He  must 
be  dead  a  mighty  while  ago.  If  a  man  is  as  gay  as 
that,  it  must  be  horrid  to  die." 

My  poor  thief  was  one  of  the  myriad  who  through 
the  long  centuries  had  come  into  kindly  touch  of  the 
friend  of  Ma3cenas.  For  the  first  time  in  his  uncer 
tain  life  he  felt  the  charm  of  genius. 

Indulgent  opportunity  was  for  Fra^ois  always 
near  to  some  fatal  enmity  of  chance.  So  does  fate 
deal  with  the  unlucky.  He  saw  coming  swiftly  to- 
ward  him  a  tall,  strongly  built  man  of  middle  age. 
He  was  richly  dressed,  and  as  he  drew  near  he  smiled. 

"  Ah,  monsieur,"  he  said ;  "  I  came  back  in  haste  to 
reclaim  my  little  Horace.  I  missed  it  only  when  I 
got  home.  I  am  most  fortunate." 

Francois  rose.  He  returned  the  small  volume,  but 
did  not  speak. 

"  Monsieur  of  course  knows  Horace,"  said  the  gen 
tleman,  looking  him  over,  a  little  curious  and  more 
than  a  little  interested.  Too  sure  of  his  own  posi 
tion  to  shun  any  intercourse  which  promised  amuse 
ment,  he  went  on  :  "  No ;  not  know  Horace  ?  Let  us 
sit  awhile.  The  sun  is  pleasant." 

Fran9ois,  rather  shy,  and  suspicious  of  a  manner 
of  man  he  had  never  before  encountered,  sat  down, 
saying,  "  I  was  a  choir-boy  once.  I  know  some  Latin, 
not  much ;  but  this  sounded  pleasant  to  the  ear." 

"  Yes ;  it  is  immortal  music.  A  choir-boy,  you 
said;  and  pardon  me,  but,  mon  Dieu,  I  heard  you 
laugh  as  I  was  searching  for  my  book.  You  have  a 


THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FEANgOIS  41 

fine  gift  that  way,  and  there  is  little  to  laugh  at  now 
adays  in  France." 

"  Monsieur  will  excuse  me ;  I  am  so  made  that  I 
laugh  at  everything  and  at  nothing.  I  believe  I  do 
laugh  in  my  sleep.  And  just  now  I  laughed  because 
—  because  —  " 

"  Well,  why  did  you  laugh  ?" 

Francois  glanced  at  the  questioner.  Something 
authoritative  in  his  ways  made  it  seem  needful  to 
answer,  and  what  this  or  any  man  thought  of  him 
he  cared  little  —  perhaps  because  in  his  world  opin 
ions  went  for  nothing.  And  still  he  hesitated  a 
moment. 

"  Well  ?  "  There  was  a  note  of  strong  surprise  in 
the  voice,  as  if  the  owner  felt  it  to  be  unusual  that  a 
query  he  put  should  not  evoke  instant  reply. 

"  I  laughed  because  I  was  cheated." 

"  Charming,  that !  May  I  ask  how  ?  But  per 
haps  — '' 

"  No,"  said  Frai^ois ;  "  if  it  amuse  monsieur,  why 
should  I  care  ?  "  He  calmly  related  his  adventure. 

The  gentleman  threw  himself  back  on  the  seat  in 
an  ecstasy  of  amusement.  He  was  out  of  humor 
with  the  time  and  with  his  own  world,  and  bored  by 
the  incessant  politics  of  the  day ;  here  was  a  pleasant 
diversion. 

"  By  St.  Denis !  my  friend,  you  are  like  the  great 
Chicot  that  was  fool  to  King  Henry  of  merry 
memory." 

"  And  how,  monsieur  ?  " 

"How?    He  had  a  long  face  that  laughed  ever, 


42  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

long  legs,  and  a  shrewd  way  of  seeming  more  simple 
than  he  was." 

"  Monsieur  flatters  me." 

"  Ah,  and  a  smart  rogue,  too.  I  may  conclude  your 
profession  to  be  that  of  relieving  the  rich  of  their  too 
excessive  luxuries." 

Frangois  was  enchanted  with  this  ingenious  and 
unprejudiced  companion,  who  had,  like  himself,  a 
sense  of  the  laughable  aspects  of  life. 

"Monsieur  has  hit  it,"  he  said  gaily;  "I  am  a 
thief." 

No  one  had  taught  him  to  be  ashamed  of  anything 
but  failure  in  his  illegal  enterprises. 

"  Tiens  !  That  is  droll ;  —  not  that  you  are  a  thief : 
I  have  known  many  in  my  own  world.  They  steal  a 
variety  of  things,  each  after  his  taste  in  theft  —  the 
money  of  the  poor,  the  character  of  a  man,  a  woman's 
honor." 

"  I  scarcely  comprehend,"  said  Frangois,  who  was 
puzzled. 

"They  lack  your  honesty  of  confession.  Could 
you  be  altogether  honest  if  a  man  trusted  you  ? " 

"I  do  not  know.  No  man  ever  trusted  me,  and 
one  must  live,  monsieur." 

The  gentleman  hesitated,  and  relapsed  into  the  in 
difference  of  a  too  easy  life.  He  had  been  on  the 
point  of  offering  this  outcast  a  chance. 

"  Enfin,  no  doubt  you  are  right.  I  wish  you  every 
success.  The  deuce!  Have  you  my  snuff-box  and 
my  handkerchief  ?  " 

"  Both,"  said  Frangois. 

"  Then  don't  run  away.     I  could  never  catch  you. 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FKAN^OIS  43 

Long  legs  must  be  of  use  in  your  profession.  The 
snuff-box  I  will  ransom.  Let  us  say  fifty  francs.  It 
is  worth  more,  but  it  bears  my  name,  and  there  are 
risks." 

"  Certainly/'  said  Fran9ois.  "  And  the  handker 
chief.  Monsieur  is  enrhume  —  has  a  cold;  I  could 
not  deprive  monsieur." 

The  gentleman  thanked  him,  paid  over  the  money 
for  the  box,  and,  greatly  pleased,  rose,  saying :  "  You 
are  a  dangerous  acquaintance;  but  I  trust  we  may 
meet  again.  Au  revoir  !  " 

Fran9ois  remained  on  the  bench,  Toto  at  his  feet 
iii  the  sun.  This  meeting  affected  him  strangely.  It 
had  been  the  first  touch  of  a  world  remote  from  his 
own.  He  did  not  recognize  the  fact  that  he  had  gifts 
which  enable  men  to  rise  in  life.  At  times  he  had  had 
vague  ambitions,  but  he  was  at  the  foot  of  a  ladder, 
and  the  rungs  above  were  broken  or  not  to  be  seen. 
These  moods  were  brief,  and  as  to  their  cause  not 
always  clear  to  him.  He  was  by  nature  social,  and 
able  to  like  or  to  love ;  but  the  people  of  the  Cite 
were  dreadful,  and  if  now  and  then  some  broken 
refugee  from  a  higher  class  delighted  him  for  a  time, 
the  eventful  hand  of  justice  or  what  not  was  apt  to 
separate  them. 

As  he  looked  after  the  gentleman  he  felt  his  charm 
and  the  courtesy  of  his  ways  as  something  to  be  de 
sired.  His  own  form  of  attractiveness,  the  influence 
of  joyous  laughter  and  frank  approach,  he  had  often 
and  usefully  tested ;  and  perhaps  this  sense  of  his  own 
power  to  please  made  him  intelligently  apprehensive 
of  what  he  had  just  experienced.  Had  he  seized 


44  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

eagerly  the  half -offered  help  the  gentleman  suggested 
rather  than  offered,  he  had  been  wiser ;  but  it  was 
literally  true  that,  being  when  possible  honest  as  to 
speech,  he  had  obeyed  the  moment's  impulse.  A  bet 
ter  man  than  the  gentleman  would  have  gone  further. 
He  had  lazily  reflected,  and  concluded  that  to  help 
this  poor  devil  might  be  troublesome,  and  thus  the 
jewel  opportunity  lay  lost  at  their  feet.  They  were 
to  meet  again,  and  then  it  was  to  be  the  thief's  turn. 

Now  he  sat  in  thought,  kicking  the  ground  with 
his  boot.  Out  of  the  past  came  remembrances  of  the 
asylum,  and  how  he  had  been  told  to  be  good,  and' 
not  to  kill  or  to  steal,  or  to  do  certain  other  naughty 
things  less  clear  to  him  then  than  now.  But  this 
was  a  far-away  time.  At  the  choir-house  were  the 
same  moral  lessons,  but  they  who  taught  were  they 
who  sinned.  Since  then  no  one  had  said  a  word  o.f 
reproach  to  the  waif ;  nor  had  thfs  great  gentleman, 
and  yet  he  had  left  him  in  the  rare  mood  of  thought- 
filled  depression. 

"  Wake  up,  Toto,"  he  cried ;  "  thou  art  become  too 
fat.  En  avant  aux  champs  !  "  And,  followed  by  the 
poodle,  he  went  away  up  the  Seine,  and  wras  gone  so 
long  that  Quatre  Pattes  began  to  think  he  had  taken 
to  honest  courses  and  would  return  no  more. 

He  came  back  in  a  fortnight,  the  better  for  certain 
prosperous  ventures.  And  thus  the  days  ran  on.  If 
fortune  were  against  him,  and  even  diet  hard  to  get, 
Toto  went  with  the  Crab  to  some  distant  market 
after  dusk,  and,  while  she  bargained,  knew  to  steal 
a  cutlet,  and  to  run  away  with  his  prize,  and  make 
for  home  or  the  next  dark  lane.  But  these  devices 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  45 

failed  at  times,  and  thus  Francois's  life  consisted  of 
a  series  of  ups  and  downs.  When  lucky  he  bought 
good  clothes,  for  which  he  had  a  liking;  when  un 
lucky  he  pawned  them,  and  went  back  to  garments 
no  one  would  take  in  pledge. 

It  was  in  the  year  1788  that  this  adventure  oc 
curred.  He  was,  as  far  as  was  to  be  guessed,  fully 
twenty-one  years  of  age.  His  life  of  adventure,  of 
occasional  hardships,  and  of  incessant  watchfulness 
had  already  given  him  the  appearance  of  being  a  far 
older  person. 

Always  an  odd-looking  lad,  as  he  grew  to  maturity 
his  great  length  of  limb,  his  long  face,  and  ears  of 
unnatural  bigness,  gave  him  such  singularity  of  as 
pect  as  made  disguises  impossible. 

The  poodle  was  an  added  danger,  and  for  this 
reason,  when  in  pursuit  of  prey,  Francois  was  forced 
to  leave  the  dog  with  Mother  Crab.  Thus  time  ran 
on  with  such  perils  as  attend  the  life  he  led,  but  with 
better  fortune  than  could  have  been  expected.  As  to 
these  later  years  up  to  1790,  Francois,  in  his  memoirs, 
says  little.  Once  —  indeed,  twice — he  left  the  Crab's 
house,  only  to  be  driven  back  by  stress  of  circum 
stance.  After  1790  his  account  is  more  complete,  and 
here  it  is  that  we  take  up  again  the  fuller  story  of 
his  life. 

The  turmoil  of  vast  governmental  and  social 
changes  was  disturbing  all  ranks  of  life.  If  the 
Revolution  was  nursed  in  the  salons,  as  some  say, 
it  was  born  in  the  furrows  of  the  tax-tormented 
peasant,  and  in  the  seething  caldron  of  the  Cite  and 
the  quarters  of  the  starving  poor. 


46       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

Fra^ois,  who  cared  little  what  ruler  was  on  top, 
or  who  paid  taxes,  was  aware  of  the  uneasy  stir  in  his 
own  neighborhood.  Men  were  more  savage.  Murder 
and  all  violent  crimes  were  more  common.  That 
hungry  beast,  the  mob,  began  to  show  its  fangs,  soon 
to  be  red  with  blood.  The  clubs  of  all  opinions  were 
busy.  The  church  was  toppling  to  ruin,  its  centuries 
of  greedy  gain  at  an  end.  Political  lines  were 
sharply  drawn.  The  white  cockade  and  the  tricolor 
were  the  badges  of  hostile  ranks,  still  more  distinctly 
marked  by  costume.  The  cafes  were  divided :  some 
were  Royalist,  some  Jacobin  or  neutral.  Too  many 
who  were  of  the  noble  class  were  flying,  or,  if  more 
courageous  or  less  forethoughtful,  were  gathering 
into  bitterly  opponent  camps.  So  much  of  that  lower 
Paris  as  felt,  yearned,  hated,  and  was  hungry,  glad 
of  any  change,  was  pleased  amid  tumult  to  find  its 
chance  to  plunder  and  to  kill. 

The  fall  of  the  Bastille  in  the  preceding  year  had 
not  seemed  important  to  Francois.  He  had  inter 
ested  himself  in  the  purses  of  the  vast  crowd  whicli 
looked  on  and  was  too  much  taken  up  with  the  event 
to  guard  the  contents  of  its  pockets.  The  violence 
which  came  after  was  not  to  Francis's  taste ;  but 
these  street  crowds  were  admirable  for  business  until 
money  became  scarce,  and  the  snuff-box  and  the  lace 
handkerchief  disappeared  with  armorial  bearings, 
and  with  the  decree  of  the  people  that  great  dames 
must  no  more  go  in  fine  carriages. 


VII 

Wherein  is  told  how  Francois  saved  a  man's  neck  and 
learned  to  juggle. 

the  early  spring  of  this  year  Francois 
found  himself,  one  day,  in  a  crowd  near 
to  the  Porte  St.  Denis.  He  stood  high 
on  his  long  legs,  looking  on,  while  men 
on  ladders  broke  up  the  royal  escutcheon 
on  the  stone  archway.  It  amused  him  a  little  to  see 
how  furious  they  were,  and  how  crazy  were  the  fool 
ish  poissardes :  these  fishwomen,  who  had  so  many 
privileges  under  the  monarchy,  at  every  blow  of  the 
hammer  yelled  with  delight ;  and  behold,  here  was 
the  Crab,  Quatre  Pattes,  far  away  from  her  quarter, 
hoarse  with  screaming,  a  horrible  edition  of  woman 
as  she  stood  under  the  arch,  careless  of  the  falling 
fragments.  On  the  edge  of  the  more  prudent  crowd, 
an  old  man  was  guilty  of  some  rash  protest  in  the 
way  of  speech.  Frar^ois  heard  the  cry,  "  A  bas  I'aris- 
tocrate  !  a  la  lanterne ! "  and  saw  the  Crab  leap  on 
the  man  like  some  fierce  insect,  horribly  agile,  a  thin 
gray  tress  down  her  back.  Swift  and  terrible  it  was. 
In  a  moment  he  swung  writhing  from  the  chain  of 
the  street-lantern,  fighting  with  vain  hands  to  loosen 

47 


48       THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FKANgOIS 

the  rope.  A  red-haired  woman  leaped  up  and  caught 
his  leg.  There  was  laughter.  The  man  above  her 
hung  limp.  Fran9ois  did  not  laugh.  He  tried  to 
get  out  of  the  crowd,  away  from  this  quivering  hor 
ror.  To  do  so  was  not  easy.  The  crowd  was  noisy 
and  turbulent,  swaying  to  and  fro,  intent  on  mischief. 
As  he  moved  he  saw  a  small,  stout  man  take,  with 
some  lack  of  skill,  a  purse  from  the  side-pouch  of  a 
huge  fish  woman.  Frai^ois,  being  close  to  the  thief,  saw 
him  seized  by  the  woman  he  had  robbed.  In  the  press, 
which  was  great,  Frai^ois  slipped  a  hand  into  the 
thief's  pocket,  and  took  out  the  purse.  Meanwhile 
there  were  again  wild  cries  of  "To  the  lantern!" 
"  Up  with  him  ! "  the  woman  lamenting  her  loss,  and 
denouncing  the  man  who  had  stolen.  His  life  was 
like  to  be  brief.  Surrounded  by  these  she-devils,  he 
stood,  white,  shaking,  and  swearing  he  was  innocent. 
The  man's  anguish  of  fear  moved  Francois.  "  Dame ! " 
he  cried,  "  search  the  man  before  you  hang  him !  I 
say,  search  him ! "  While  one  of  them  began  to  act 
on  his  hint,  Frai^ois  let  the  purse  fall  into  the 
pocket  of  the  original  owner  —  an  easy  feat  for  a 
practised  hand.  u  The  man  has  it  not.  Look  again 
in  thy  pouch,  mamanj"  lie  cried.  "  The  man  has  it 
not ;  that  is  plain."  When  the  dame  of  the  market 
found  her  purse,  she  turned  on  Fraii9ois,  amid  the 
laughter  of  her  friends.  "  Thou  art  a  confederate. 
Thou  didst  put  it  back  thyself."  Indeed,  things  were 
like  to  go  ill.  The  crowd  was  of  a  mind  to  hang 
some  one.  A  dozen  hands  fell  on  him,  while  the 
man  he  had  aided  slipped  away  quietly.  FranQois 
shook  off  the  women,  and  with  foot  and  fist  cleared 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS       49 

a  space,  for  lie  was  of  great  strength  of  body.  He 
would  have  earned  but  a  short  reprieve  had  he  not 
seen  the  Crab.  He  called  to  her :  "  A  moi !  Quatre 
Pattes ! "  The  ring  of  red-faced  furies  fell  back 
for  a  moment  before  the  rage  and  power j  of  a  man 
defending  his  life.  Half  dismayed,  but  furious,  they 
shouted :  "  Hang  him !  Kill  him ! "  and  called  to  the 
men  to  help  them.  Again  Francois  was  hustled  and 
struck  as  the  crowd  closed  in  on  him.  He  struggled, 
and  called  to  Toto,  whom  nothing  so  disturbed  as  to 
see  a  rude  touch  laid  on  his  master.  In  an  instant 
the  dog  was  busy  with  the  stout  calves  about  him, 
biting,  letting  go,  and  biting  again.  The  diversion 
was  valuable,  but  brief ;  and  soon  Toto,  who  was  not 
over-valiant,  fled  to  his  master,  the  crowd  yelling : 
"  Kill  him  !  Hang  him  and  the  beast ! "  Once  more 
FranQois  exerted  his  exceptional  strength,  crying, 
"  Not  while  I  live  ! "  and  catching  up  the  dog  under 
his  arm.  Then  he  heard  the  shrill  voice  of  the  Crab. 
"  A  moi  I "  he  shouted,  and  struck  right  and  left  as 
Quatre  Pattes,  with  her  sticks,  squirmed  in  under  the 
great  arms  of  the  fishwomeu. 

"  A  moi  !  "  she  cried,  "  Fran9ois  ! "  With  her  sticks, 
and  tongue  of  the  vilest,  she  cleared  a  space  as  the 
venomous  creatures  fell  back  from  one  more  hideous 
than  themselves. 

Meanwhile  the  accusing  dame  shook  her  purse  at 
the  Crab,  crying,  "  He  put  it  back ;  I  felt  him  do  it." 
But  the  rest  laughed,  and  the  Crab  faced  her  with  so 
fierce  a  look  that  she  shrank  away. 

u  Off  with  thee  ! "  said  the  Crab  to  FranQois  ;  "  thou 
wert  near  to  the  lantern." 


60  THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FKANgOIS 

"  'T  is  a  Jacobin  of  the  best,"  she  cried  to  the  mob ; 
"  a  friend  of  mine.  You  will  get  into  trouble  —  you 
cursed  fools ! " 

The  crowd  cheered  her,  and  Frangois,  seizing  the 
chance,  cried,  laughing,  "  Adieu,  mesdames,"  and  in  a 
moment  was  out  of  the  crowd  and  away.  He  turned 
as  many  corners  as  possible,  and  soon,  feeling  it  safe 
to  move  more  slowly,  set  down  the  dog  and  readjusted 
his  dress. 

A  minute  later  he  saw  beside  him  the  man  he  had 
saved.  "  Do  not  speak  to  me  here,"  he  said ;  "  follow 
me  at  a  distance."  The  man,  still  white  and  shaking, 
obeyed  him.  At  the  next  turn,  as  Francois  paused  in 
doubt  which  way  to  go,  he  met  Quatre  Pattes. 

"  The  devil  nearly  got  thee,  my  little  boy,"  she 
said;  "but  a  smart  thief  is  worth  some  trouble  to 
save.  Pay  me  for  thy  long  neck,  and  quick,  too." 
She  was  full  of  eau-de-  vie,  and,  as  usual  then,  savage 
and  reckless. 

"  More!  "she  cried  —  "more!"  as  he  gave  her  a 
franc.  "More,  more!  Ungrateful  beast,  thou  art 
good  to  feed  me,  and  for  little  else.  More,  more !  I 
say,  or  I  will  call  them  after  thee,  and  this  time  I 
shall  have  a  good  pull  at  the  rope.  More,  more!" 
and  she  struck  him  with  her  stick.  "  Sacre,  waif  of 
hell!  More!  more!"  she  screamed.  "And  that  fel 
low  who  helped  thee!  I  have  seen  him;  I  know 
him." 

Frangois  turned  without  a  word,  and  ran  as  fast  as 
his  long  legs  would  carry  him.  Two  blocks  away  he 
was  overtaken  by  the  other  thief.  They  pushed  on 
in  silence. 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FKANC;OIS  51 

At  last  Francois,  getting  back  his  somewhat  scat 
tered  wits,  said  :  "  We  can  talk  now." 

"Ah,  I  understand,"  said  the  other;  "thou  didst 
steal  her  purse  from  me,  and  put  it  back  in  her 
pouch." 

"  Yes ;  I  took  it  just  as  they  caught  thee ;  then  I 
let  it  fall  into  her  pouch." 

"  I  thank  thee,  monsieur.  Dleu  !  I  am  all  in  a  sweat. 
We  are  of  a  trade,  I  perceive.  Why  didst  thou  help 
me?" 

"  To  keep  it  was  a  risk.  My  turn  might  have  come 
next.  I  pitied  thee,  too." 

"  I  shall  never  forget  it  —  never." 

Fraii9ois  laughed.  The  fat  man  looked  up  at  him. 
"  Dame !  but  thou  hast  a  queer  face,  and  ears  like 
wings.  'T  is  a  fortune.  Let  us  have  a  little  wine 
and  talk.  I  have  a  good  idea." 

" Presently,"  said  Frai^ois ;  "I  like  not  the  neigh 
borhood." 

Soon  they  found  a  guinguette,  or  low  liquor-shop, 
in  the  Rue  Xeuve  des  Petits  Champs,  and,  feeling  at 
last  secure,  had  a  long  talk  over  a  bottle  of  wine. 

Frangois  learned  that  his  new  acquaintance  was 
named  Pierre  Despard,  and  that  he  had,  for  the  most 
part  of  his  means  of  living,  given  up  the  business  of 
relieving  the  rich  of  their  purses.  He  explained  that 
he  did  well  as  a  conjurer,  and  had  a  booth  near  the 
Pont  Xeuf.  He  made  clear  to  Fran9ois  that  with  his 
quick  fingers,  and  a  face  which  none  could  see  and 
not  laugh,  he  would  be  a  desirable  partner. 

"  Thou  must  learn  to  move  those  huge  ears." 
Would  he  be  his  assistant!  When  times  were  bad 


52       THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

they  might  profit  by  tempting  chances  in  their  old 
line  of  life. 

Fran9ois  was  just  now  as  near  to  penitence  as  his 
nature  permitted  him  to  be,  and  his  recent  peril  dis 
posed  him  to  listen.  The  more  he  reflected  as  Des- 
pard  talked,  the  more  he  liked  it.  He  ended  by  say 
ing,  "Yes";  and  before  the  Crab  had  reached  home 
he  had  taken  away  his  slender  store  of  garments, 
and,  with  Toto  at  his  heels,  found  his  way  to  the 
room  of  his  new  friend,  in  a  little  street  which  ran 
into  the  Rue  Basse  du  Rempart,  not  far  from  the 
Madeleine.  Thus  began  a  mode  of  life  which  he 
found  fresh  and  full  of  satisfaction. 

The  pair  so  strangely  brought  together  took  a 
room  in  the  fifth  story,  and,  with  Toto,  set  up  do 
mestic  life  on  a  modest  scale.  It  was  much  to  Fran 
cois's  contentment.  He  had  what  I  may  call  a  side 
taste  for  the  respectable,  and  this  new  business 
seemed  to  him  a  decided  rise  in  life.  It  was  varied 
enough  to  amuse  him ;  nor  was  it  so  conventionally 
commercial  as  to  lack  such  adventure  and  incident 
as  this  wild  young  reprobate  of  the  Cite  had  learned 
to  like.  The  new  business  soon  gave  the  partners 
more  than  enough  to  live  upon.  After  their  lodging 
and  diet  were  provided  for,  Pierre  Despard  took  two 
thirds  of  what  was  left,  and  put  it  away  in  a  stock 
ing,  at  first  with  some  doubt  as  to  his  comrade,  but 
soon  with  the  trust  which  Frai^ois  was  apt  to  in 
spire.  From  early  morn  until  noon,  Pierre  taught 
Fran9ois  to  do  tricks  with  cards,  to  juggle  with  balls, 
and  to  tell  fortunes  by  the  lines  of  the  hand.  Toto 
was  educated  to  carry  a  basket  and  collect  sous,  to 


"PIEKRE   TAUGHT  FEANCOIS  TO  JUGGLE  WITH  BALLS.1 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  55 

stand  011  his  head  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  to 
pick  out  a  card  at  a  signal.  The  rest  of  the  day  was 
spent  in  the  booth,  where  they  rarely  failed  to  be 
well  paid.  At  evening  there  was  a  quiet  cafe  and 
dominoes,  and  a  modest  petit  verre  of  brandy.  Mean 
while  the  peasants  burned  chateaux,  and  Protestant 
and  Catholic  hanged  one  another  in  the  pleasant 
South. 

Now  and  then  the  Paris  mob  enjoyed  a  like  luxury, 
and  amid  unceasing  disorder  the  past  was  swept  on 
to  the  dust-heaps  of  history. 

The  little  audience  of  children  and  nurses  in  front  of 
the  booth  was  as  yet  nowise  concerned  as  to  these  vast 
changes  ;  nor  was  Toto  disturbed  when  it  was  thought 
prudent  to  robe  him  with  a  three-colored  ribbon. 
The  politics  of  the  masters  of  the  show  varied  as  their 
audiences  changed  from  the  children  of  the  rich  at 
noon  to  the  Jacobin  workmen  at  the  coming  of  dusk. 
Fraii9ois  personally  preferred  splendor  and  the  finery 
of  the  great.  He  was  by  nature  a  Royalist.  Pierre 
was  silent  or  depressed,  and  said  little  as  to  his 
opinions.  But  both  had  the  prudence  of  men  always 
too  near  to  poverty  to  take  risks  of  loss  for  the  sake 
of  political  sentiments  in  which  they  had  no  immedi 
ate  interest. 

Despard  was  a  somber  little  man,  and  nimble,  as 
some  fat  men  are.  He  was  as  red-cheeked  as  a  Nor 
man  apple,  and,  at  this  time,  of  unchanging  gravity 
of  face  and  conduct.  Not  even  Franqois's  gaiety  could 
tempt  him  to  relate  his  history;  and  although  at 
times  a  great  talker,  he  became  so  terrified  when 
frankly  questioned  as  to  his  past,  that  Frai^ois 


56       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FKANgOIS 

ceased  to  urge  him.  That  any  one  should  desire  to 
conceal  anything  was  to  Frai^ois  amazing.  He  was 
himself  a  valuable  possession  to  his  morose  partner. 

"I  do  not  laugh,"  said  Pierre;  "  nay,  not  even  as  a 
matter  of  business.  Thou  shalt  laugh  for  two.  Some 
day  we  will  go  to  see  the  little  girl  who  is  at  Sevres, 
in  a  school  of  nuns.  'T  is  there  the  money  goes." 

This  was  a  sudden  revelation  to  Frai^ois.  Here 
was  a  human  being,  like  himself  a  thief,  who  was 
sacrificing  something  for  another.  The  isolation  of 
his  own  life  came  before  him  with  a  sense  of  shock. 
He  said  he  should  be  glad  to  see  the  child,  and  when 
should  they  go  ? 


VIII 

In  which  Francois  discovers  the  mercantile  value  of 
laughter,  and  the  Crab  takes  toll  of  the  jugglers  —  with 
the  sad  history  of  Despard,  the  partner. 

ATE  in  the  evenings,  in  the  room  they 
shared,  the  practice  of  the  early  morning 
was  resumed,  and,  above  all,  Pierre  was 
overjoyed  to  see  what  tricks  of  feature 
were  within  Fraugois's  control.  He  had, 
iu  fact,  some  of  the  art  of  the  actor,  and  was  the  mas 
ter  of  such  surprises  of  expression  as  were  irresistibly 
comic.  By  and  by  the  fame  of  his  wonderful  visage 
spread,  and  very  often  the  young  nobles,  with  their 
white  cockades,  came  to  see,  or  great  ladies  would 
pause  to  have  their  palms  read.  When  palmistry 
was  to  be  used,  the  booth  was  closed  with  black  cur 
tains,  between  which  was  seen  only  this  long  face, 
with  the  flaring  ears  and  laughing  eyes.  Presently 
a  huge  hand  came  out  below,  the  rest  of  the  figure 
remaining  unseen.  Then,  in  the  quaintest  language, 
Francois  related  wonderful  things  yet  to  be,  his  large 
mouth  opening  so  as  to  divide  the  merry  face  as  with 
a  gulf. 

It  was  a  time  eager  for  the  new,  and  this  astonish- 
57 


58       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

ing  mask  had  a  huge  success.  The  booth  grew  rich, 
and  raised  its  prices,  so  that  soon  these  two  pirates 
of  the  Cite  sat  in  wonder  over  their  gains,  and  Pierre 
began  to  store  up  a  few  louis  for  a  bad  day,  and  for 
the  future  of  the  little  maid  at  Sevres,  where  two  or 
three  of  the  Sisters  of  the  Sacred  Heart  had  found  a 
new  home,  and  taken  again  the  charge  of  some  of 
their  scattered  flock. 

Franqois  was  fast  learning  the  art  of  the  conjurer ; 
but  at  times,  sad  to  say,  he  yearned  for  a  chance  to 
apply  his  newly  acquired  dexterity  in  ways  which 
were  more  perilous.  He  liked  change,  and  had  the 
pleasure  in  risk  which  is  common  to  daring  men. 
Indeed,  he  was  at  times  so  restless  as  to  require  the 
urgent  counsels  of  Pierre  to  keep  him  tranquil. 
Once  or  twice  he  must  needs  insist  on  a  holiday, 
and  went  away  with  Toto  for  two  days.  They  came 
back  dirty  and  happy,  but  to  Pierre's  relief.  This 
uneasy  partner  was  now  essential,  and  more  and 
more  Jacobin  and  Royalist  crowded  about  the  booth 
to  get  a  laugh  out  of  the  sight  of  the  face  which, 
appearing  through  the  curtain  with  hair  brushed  up 
and  long  brown  beard  combed  down,  suddenly  grew 
as  broad  as  it  had  been  long.  The  laugh  into  which 
it  broke  was  so  cheery,  so  catching,  so  causeless,  that 
all  who  saw  fell  into  fits  of  merriment  such  as  were 
not  common  in  those  days  of  danger  and  anxiety. 

Then  the  partner  appeared  in  front  of  the  booth. 
So  many  wished  the  man  who  laughed  to  read  their 
palms  that  Pierre  declared  it  must  be  for  the  highest 
bidder.  A  gay  auction  took  place ;  and  the  winner 
heard  his  fate  slyly  whispered  by  the  voice  of  many 


THE  ADVENTURES  OP  FRANgOIS       59 

tones,  or  it  might  be  that  it  was  loudly  read  for  the 
benefit  of  the  crowd,  and,  amid  cries  and  jeers,  the 
victim  retired  with  promise  of  a  wife  with  a  negative 
dowry  in  some  uiiexistent  section  of  Paris.  Or, 
again,  it  was  an  elderly  dame  who  consulted  the  voice 
of  fate.  She  was  to  have  three  husbands,  and  die 
young.  Then  another  broad  hand  came  forth,  and 
on  it  the  black  poodle  upright,  with  a  handkerchief 
to  his  eyes,  and  his  tail  adorned  with  crape.  It  was 
witty,  innocent,  and  amusing,  and  delighted  this 
Paris,  which  was  becoming  suspicious,  cruel,  and 
grimly  devilish. 

Very  soon  the  business  in  which  laughter  was 
sold  for  what  it  would  bring  in  laughter,  and  for 
what  men  were  willing  to  pay  for  an  honest  grin, 
began  to  have  incidents  which  more  than  satisfied 
Franqois's  taste  for  adventure  and  greatly  troubled 
Pierre.  The  little  room  of  the  two  conjurers  had 
flowers  in  the  window,  and  a  caged  bird.  These  were 
Francois's  luxuries.  Pierre  did  not  care  for  them. 
He  had  begun  to  read  books  about  the  rights  of  man, 
and  bits  of  "  The  Friend  of  the  People,"  by  Marat. 
When  Francois  first  knew  him  he  liked  to  gossip 
gravely  of  what  went  on,  as  to  the  changing  fashions, 
or  as  to  the  new  "  baptism  "  of  the  streets,  but  of  the 
serious  aspect  of  the  tumbling  monarchy  was  not 
inclined  to  speak.  At  times,  too,  he  let  it  be  seen 
that  he  was  well  educated;  but  beyond  this,  Fraii- 
qois  still  learned  nothing  of  his  past.  One  evening 
Francois,  gaily  whistling,  and  with  Toto  after  him, 
turned  the  knob  of  their  chamber  door,  There  was  some 
resistance.  He  called,  "  Pierre ! "  and  the  door  yielded. 


60 

He  went  in.  Two  candles  were  burning  on  their 
little  dining-table.  Facing  him,  in  a  chair,  sat  the 
Crab,  Quatre  Pattes,  the  spine  bent  forward,  the 
head  tilted  up  to  get  sight  of  Pierre,  who  was  lean 
ing  against  the  wall  back  of  the  door.  Her  eyes, 
a  dusky  red,  were  wide  open  to  enlarge  the  view 
which  the  bend  of  her  back  limited.  The  beak 
between  them  was  purple.  Her  mouth,  grim  and 
lipless,  was  set  in  deep,  radiating  wrinkles,  and  the 
toothless  gums  were  moving  as  if  she  were  chewing. 
Her  two  wrists  rested  on  the  curved  handles  of  her 
short  canes,  and  her  outstretched  hands,  lean,  eager, 
and  deformed,  were  moving  like  the  claws  of  some 
ravenous  creature  of  the  jungle. 

Frai^ois  looked  from  her  to  his  partner,  Despard. 
He  was  standing  as  if  flattened,  his  eyes  upon  the 
woman,  his  palms,  outspread,  set  hard  on  the  wall 
behind  him,  a  pitiful  image  of  alarm'  and  hatred. 

"  Mon  Dim  !  "  cried  Franqois,  "  what  is  all  this  ? 
What  does  this  she-devil  want  ? " 

"  Want !  I  want  money,  vagabond  thief  !  I  saw 
thee  in  the  booth  yesterday.  We  are  honest,  are 
we  ?  And  I  know  him,  too.  Him  ! "  and  she  pointed 
at  Pierre,  who  murmured : 

"  Kill  her !     Take  her  away ! " 

Francois  laughed.  "  Out  of  this,  hag !  '*  and 
he  laughed  again. 

"  I  know  that  man,"  she  cried.  "  Sacr6,  but  he  is 
scared,  the  coward !  I  remind  him  of  old  times.  He 
must  pay  —  pay,  or  I  will  fetch  the  police.  He  knows 
me.  Out  with  the  money  !  Empty  your  pockets  ! " 

Frai^ois  shouted:    "What,   Mother    Puzzlebones, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       61 

dost  thou  think  to  scare  an  old  dog  of  the  Cite?  Art 
fit  to  be  mother-in-law  of  Satan.  Out  with  thee ! 
Out  of  this,  I  say  !  Here  is  to  bny  flesh  to  cover  thy 
rattlebone  carcass."  He  threw  two  francs  before  her. 

The  Crab  stood  up,  and  beat  with  her  sticks  011  the 
table.  "  No  francs  !  It  is  gold  I  will  have  —  red 
louis,  or  I  will  set  the  police  on  thee,  and  on  the  fat 
fool  yonder.  I  will  find  that  girl  of  his.  She  must 
be  fit  to  sell  by  this  time.  A  beauty  was  her  mother." 

u  Kill  her  !  Kill  her  !  "  said  Pierre,  wrath  in  his 
words,  fear  in  their  tremor.  Of  a  sudden  he  seized 
a  stool,  and,  mad  with  some  memory  of  wrong, 
leaped  forward.  The  Crab  faced  him  with  courage, 
as  Frangois  tore  away  the  stool,  and  pushed  him 
back.  "  No  murder  here.  Keep  quiet,  idiot !  And 
as  to  thee,  thou  gutter  Crab,  out  of  this ! " 

Upon  this,  Toto  set  up  a  dismal  howl,  and  made 
at  the  old  woman.  A  rousing  whack  from  her  stick 
sent  him  howling  under  the  bed,  where  he  sat  pen 
sive.  Then  she  turned  on  Frangois. 

"  Look  here,"  she  said ;  "  thou  hast  some  sense. 
That  ass  has  none.  Let  us  talk.  Thou  canst  give 
me  money  or  let  it  alone.  You  both  know  me.  A 
word  to  the  police,  and  up  goes  the  little  show." 

"  Very  likely." 

"  Then  make  a  bargain.  Pay  me,  and  I  hold  my 
tongue.  No  use  to  call  me  names." 

"  Well,  let  us  have  peace,  and  talk,"  said  Frangois. 
This  threat  of  the  Crab  as  to  the  officers  of  the  law 
might  not  be  vain ;  she  was  quite  too  well  informed ; 
and  there  was  Pierre,  white  and  furious.  Frangois 
foresaw  tragedy;  comedy  was  more  to  his  taste. 


62 

"What  wilt  thou  have,  Quatre  Pattes?  We  are 
poor.  Why  threaten  thy  old  lodger?"  He  was 
eager  to  get  her  away,  in  order  to  understand  mat 
ters.  Too  much  was  dark.  Pierre  said  no  more, 
but  stood  staring,  angry  and  yet  afraid. 

"  A  louis  a  week,"  cried  the  Crab. 

"  Nonsense !  These  good  geese  would  soon  die 
of  starvation,  and  then  no  more  golden  eggs.  Here 
are  ten  francs.  Each  week  thou  shalt  have  five." 

"  Norn  de  Dieu ! "  groaned  Pierre ;  "  and  to  kill  her 
were  so  easy  ! " 

"  Not  for  thee,  coward  ! "  shouted  the  Crab,  knock 
ing  her  sticks  together  for  emphasis. 

"  Kill  her ! "  said  Pierre,  faintly. 

"  Nonsense ! "  said  Frangois.  "  Come  to  the  booth 
for  it,  Crab;  not  here,  mind  you,  not  here  —  not  a 
sou  here." 

"Adieu,  my  jolly  bankers,"  cried  the  hag.  "For 
the  day  this  will  do ;  then  we  shall  see."  With  this, 
the  sticks  rattled  on  the  tiled  floor,  and  she  pattered 
out  of  the  door,  which  Francois  shut  after  her. 

"  Behold  us,  netted  like  larks ! "  he  said,  and  broke 
into  a  laugh. 

"  It  is  not  a  thing  to  laugh  at,"  said  Pierre,  the 
sweat  rolling  down  his  face. 

"No;  perhaps  not.  Let  us  take  counsel.  But 
what  troubled  thee?  Shall  a  crippled  old  woman 
ruin  two  strong  men1?" 

Pierre  groaned,  and  let  his  face  fall  on  his  palms, 
making  no  reply. 

"  What  is  it,  my  friend  ? " 

"  I  cannot  tell  thee  now.    It  were  useless ;  it  would 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  63 

not  help.  God  has  made  the  little  one  safe  —  safe. 
One  of  these  days  I  may  have  the  courage  to  tell 
thee." 

His  natural  reticence  and  some  too  dreadful  past 
combined  to  keep  him  silent.  Franc;ois  was  puzzled. 
He  knew  the  man  to  be  a  coward ;  but  his  timidity, 
followed  by  this  sudden  outbreak  of  murderous  fury, 
was  inexplicable;  nor  did  he  comprehend  it  fully 
until  later  events  revealed  to  him,  as  he  looked  back 
at  this  scene,  the  nature  of  the  morbid  changes  which 
his  partner's  character  had  already  begun  to  feel. 
"  What  does  it  all  mean  ? "  he  demanded. 

"Ask  me  no  more,"  said  Despard.  "Not  now  — 
not  now.  She  cannot  hurt  me  or  mine.  It  is  hate, 
not  fear,  I  have.  But  thou  ?  Why  didst  thou  pay  ? " 

"  For  good  enough  reasons,"  said  Frangois ;  "  but 
I  can  take  care  of  myself."  He  was  by  no  means 
sure  of  this.  Nevertheless,  he  laughed  as  usual,  and 
said :  "  Let  us  have  supper  j  I  cannot  think  when  I 
am  empty." 

No  more  was  said.  They  ate  in  silence,  and  then 
Pierre  turned  to  his  "  L'Ami  du  Peuple,"  and  Fran 
gois  to  a  pipe  and  to  his  thoughts.  Must  he  give  up 
the  booth,  and  wander?  He  knew  the  Crab  well 
enough  to  fear  her.  The  price  of  her  silence  would 
rise,  and  to  deny  her  would  bring  about  disaster. 
He  began  to  wish  he  had  been  honest.  It  was  too 
late  now;  but  France  was  large,  and,  after  all,  he 
could  laugh  at  his  own  embarrassment.  There  was 
time  to  think ;  he  had  bought  that. 

They  spoke  no  further  of  the  Crab ;  but  from  this 
time  Pierre  became  depressed  and  suspicious  at  every 


64       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

knock  on  the  door.  Quatre  Pattes  came  to  the  booth 
with  her  usual  eagerness,  and  if  she  chanced  to  be 
full  of  bad  brandy,  and  too  noisy  and  unappeasable, 
Francois  paid  her  something  out  of  his  own  share  of 
their  growing  profits.  Had  he  been  alone,  he  might 
have  done  otherwise ;  but  Pierre  was  timid,  watchful, 
and  talked  sadly  of  the  little  one  at  Sevres.  How 
should  he  manage  if  the  show  came  to  an  end  ?  It 
had  not  been  worth  much  until  Franyois  joined  him. 
Before  that  he  had  been  starving  himself  to  keep 
the  child  in  careful  hands.  He  became  increasingly 
melancholy,  and  this  especially  in  the  early  mornings. 
He  was  apt  to  say  at  night,  "A  day  is  gone,  and 
nothing  has  happened." 

Frangois  was  courageous,  and  mocked  a  little  at  the 
jade  Fortune.  "What  could  happen?"  And  yet 
this  shrinking  little  man,  fat,  doleful,  and  full  of 
fears,  sat  heavily  upon  him ;  and  there,  too,  was  this 
child  whom  he  had  never  seen.  Peste  !  The  children 
he  had  known  at  the  asylum  were  senseless,  greedy 
little  cattle,  all  of  one  make.  Perhaps  this  girl  at 
Sevres  was  no  better. 


IX 

In  which  Francois  tells  the  fortune  of  the  Marquis  de 
Ste.  Luce  and  of  Robespierre,  and  lias  his  own  fortune 
told,  and  of  how  Despard  saw  a  man  of  ivhom  lie  was 
afraid. 

RANQOIS  was  soon  to  be  further  amazed 
by  Pierre  Despard.  To  the  last  of  his  life, 
Fraii9ois  remembered  that  day.  A  cool 
October  had  stripped  the  king's  chest 
nut-trees  of  their  glory  as  clean  as  the 
king  himself  was  soon  to  be  shorn.  The  leaves  were 
rustling  at  evening  across  the  Place  Louis  XV,  and 
covering  the  water  of  the  canals.  Here,  of  late,  the 
tent-booth  had  been  set  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  bet 
ter  society,  which  still  wore  the  white  cockade  of  the 
Bourbons.  A  merry  group  of  the  actors  of  the  Gome- 
die  was  waiting  to  see  Francois,  the  maker  of  faces. 
There  were  Chenard  of  the  Opera  Comique ;  Fleury 
and  Saint-Prix,  whose  gaiety  no  prison  in  after  days 
could  lessen,  and  no  fear  of  death  abate.  "  Behold, 
there  is  the  great  Talma,"  said  Pierre,  peeping  out; 
"  and  the  aristos  are  many  to-day.  Art  ready,  Fran- 
9ois  ?  " 

Fran9ois  was  delighted.     The  great  Talma  here, 
65 


66  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANQOIS 

and  actually  to  see  him  —  Franqois  !  He  had  of  late 
been  acquiring  stage  ambitions,  and  taking  great 
pains  to  improve  the  natural  advantages  of  a  face 
quite  matchless  in  Paris. 

Despard  peeped  in  again.  "Yes,  Fra^ois;  they 
talk  of  thee,  and  there  are  many  in  the  crowd.  They 
gather  to  see  Talma.  There  are  Jacobins,  and  thy 
friends  the  aristocrats.  Make  thou  haste.  Art 
ready  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Fra^ois.  He  felt  it  to  be  a  great, 
an  unusual  occasion.  He  had  a  bright  idea.  He 
struck  with  a  stick  three  times  on  the  floor  of  the 
booth,  the  traditional  signal  at  the  Theatre  Fran9ais 
for  the  curtain  to  rise.  A  roar  of  applause  outside 
rewarded  his  shrewd  sense  of  what  was  due  to  this 
audience. 

"  Tiens  !     That  is  good,"  said  La  Eive. 

The  slit  in  the  curtain  opened,  and,  framed  in  the 
black  drapery,  appeared  a  face  which  seemed  to  have 
come  out  of  the  canvas  of  Holbein.  It  was  solemn, 
and  yet  grotesque,  strong  of  feature,  the  face,  beard, 
and  hair  white  with  powder ;  the  eyes  were  shut. 

11  Mon  Dieu"  said  Talma,  "  what  a  mask !  'T  is  stern 
as  fate."  The  crowd  stayed  motionless  arid  silent. 

"  Look !  look !  "  said  Fleury.  "  'T  is  a  study.  To 
smile  with  closed  eyes !  Didst  thou  ever  see  a  man 
smile  in  sleep,  Talma?" 

It  was  pretty  and  odd.  Little  curves  of  mirthful 
change  crawled  downward  from  the  eyes  over  the 
large,  grave  features;  the  ears  moved;  the  eyes  opened ; 
and  a  storm  of  liberal  laughter  broke  up  the  quiet 
lines  of  cheek  and  mouth. 


'T  IS  A  GARGOYLE  COME  DOWX  FEOM  THE  KOOF  OF  ST.  JACQUES.1 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FKAN^OIS  69 

"  Bravo !  bravo ! "  cried  Talma  and  the  other 
actors,  while  the  crowd  burst  into  a  roar  of  applause 
and  responsive  mirth. 

"  Angels  of  fun ! "  cried  Saint-Prix,  "  what  a  face  ! 
'T  is  a  gargoyle  come  down  from  the  roof  of  St. 
Jacques  de  la  Boucherie.  Does  it  go  back  of  nights? 
I  wonder  what  next  will  he  do  ?  " 

"  Hens !   Wait,"  said  La  Rive. 

The  white  face  seen  above  in  the  slit  of  the  black 
curtain  became  suddenly  serious,  with  moveless  eyes 
looking  past  the  audience  as  if  into  futurity.  Below 
appeared  two  large  hands,  scrupulously  clean,  while 
the  man's  figure  remained  hidden.  There  was  some 
thing  impressive  in  this  artful  pose. 

"  Fortunes,  fortunes,  messieurs  et  dames !  "  cried 
Pierre.  "  Who  will  have  his  hand  read  ?  Avancez  — 
come ! " 

A  shrill  voice  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  cried, 
"  Bead  Louis  Capet's ! "  The  white  cockades  turned 
to  look.  "  It  were  easy  to  read,"  said  a  tall  Jacobin. 
A  gentleman  in  the  black  garments  of  the  unprogres- 
sive  noblesse  turned :  "  Your  card,  citizen,  or  monsieur, 
as  you  like."  The  crowd  was  scarcely  stirred  by  this 
politely  managed  difference.  It  was  the  year  of  duels. 

Two  lads  pushed  forward  their  tutor,  an  abbe,  as 
was  plain  to  see,  although  few  clerics  still  ventured 
to  wear  their  old  costume.  He  laughed  awkwardly, 
and  timidly  laid  a  fat,  well-fed  hand  on  that  of  Fran- 
9ois's.  The  grave  face  of  the  reader  of  palms  fell 
forward  to  see  the  fateful  lines.  For  a  moment 
Fran9ois  was  silent ;  then  the  voice  which  came  from 
his  stolid  visage  was  monotonously  solemn,  and  the 


70  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

words  dropped  from  it  one  by  one,  as  if  they  were 
the  mechanical  product  of  some  machine  without 
interest  in  the  results  of  its  own  action.  One  long-, 
lean  forefinger  traversed  the  abbe's  palm,  and  paused. 
"  An  easy  life  thou  hast  had.  A  woman  has  troubled 
it."  The  two  pupils  were  delighted ;  the  crowd 
laughed.  "  The  line  of  life  is  broken  —  broken  "  — 
Francois's  hands  went  through  the  pantomime  of  the 
snapping  of  a  thread  —  u  like  that."  The  abbe  drew 
back,  and  could  not  be  persuaded  to  hear  further. 
Again  there  was  a  pause.  A  grisette  advanced  smil 
ing,  and  was  sent  away  charmed  with  the  gifts  a 
pleasant  future  held  in  store.  Pierre  exhorted  for 
a  time  in  vain.  Presently  the  crowd  made  way.  A 
slight  man  in  breeches  and  silk  stockings  came  for 
ward  ;  he  was  otherwise  dressed  in  the  extreme  of  the 
fashion  still  favored  by  the  court  party,  but  wore  110 
cockade,  and  carried  two  watches,  the  heavy  s^als  of 
which  Fraiigois  greatly  desired  to  appropriate.  His 
uneasy  eyes  were  covered  with  spectacles,  and  around 
them  his  sallow  complexion  deepened  to  a  dusky, 
dull  green.  Altogether  this  was  a  singular  and  not  a 
pleasant  face,  or  so,  at  least,  thought  the  palm-reader, 
a  part  of  whose  cunning  was  to  study  the  expressions 
of  those  who  asked  his  skill.  The  man  who  laid  his 
hand  on  Francois's  looked  up  at  the  motionless  visage 
of  tho  ex-thief.  Frai^ois  said:  "Is  it  for  the  citizen 
alone  to  hear,  or  for  all  "?  " 

"  For  me  —  for  me." 

Francois's  voice  fell  to  a  low  whisper. 

"  Let  the  past  go,"  said  the  listener ;  "  what  of  the 
future?" 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       71 

"  It  is  dark.  The  lines  are  many.  They  are  —  citi 
zen,  them  wilt  be  a  ruler,  powerful,  dreaded.  Thou  wilt 
have  admiration,  fame,  and  at  last  the  hatred  of  man." 

u  I  —  I  —  what  nonsense  !  Then  ? " —  and  he  waited, 
—  "  then  f  What  then  ?  What  comes  after  ? " 

u  I  will  tell  thee  '' ;  and  Fraii9ois  whispered. 

"No  more  —  no  more;  enough  of  such  foolish 
ness  ! "  He  was  clearly  enough  disturbed  by  what 
he  had  heard.  "  Thou  must  think  men  fools." 

"  Fate  is  always  a  fool,  citizen ;  but  the  fools  all 
win,  soon  or  late." 

•"  That,  at  least,  is  true,  Master  Palmister."  Then 
a  pair  of  sinister  eyes,  set  deep  behind  spectacles, 
sought  those  of  Frai^ois.  "  Thou  hast  a  strange  face, 
Master  Palm-reader.  Dost  thou  believe  what  thou 
dost  make  believe  to  read  on  men's  palms  ?  " 

"  Sometimes." 

"  Now  —  now  ?  —  this  time  ? " 

"  Yes ;  I  believe." 

"  I  shall  not  forget  thee." 

Francois  felt  something  like  a  chill  between  his 
shoulders.  The  Jacobin  stepped  aside  after  deposit 
ing  an  ample  fee  in  the  basket  which  Toto  presented. 

There  was  a  murmur  in  the  crowd.  Several  per 
sons  looked  with  curious  eyes  after  the  retreating 
man,  and  the  conjurer  heard  some  one  say :  "  Tiens  ! 
C'est  drole.  It  is  Robespierre."  His  was  at  this  time 
not  more  than  a  well-known  name.  For  a  minute 
no  one  else  came  forward.  Frangois  saw  Pierre  slip 
hastily  into  the  tent ;  he  knew  not  why.  A  gentle 
man  came  up  gaily.  He  was  dressed  splendidly, 
with  no  regard  for  the  leveling  tastes  of  the  day. 


74       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

At  last  Despard  opened  his  eyes.  "  Take  him 
away,"  he  said.  The  man  was  delirious. 

"  Who  ? " 

"Take  him  away.  Will  he  kill  me?  He  killed 
her."  A  half-hour  he  wandered  in  mind,  while  Fran- 
9ois  bathed  his  flushed  face.  Then  he  drew  a  deep 
breath,  and  said :  "  What  is  this  ?  Where  am  I  ? " 

Frangois  replied :    "  Thou  hast  had  a  fit." 

"  A  fit  ?  Yes ;  I  have  them  —  not  often.  I  remem 
ber  now.  Has  he  gone,  that  devil  ?  —  that  marquis  ?  " 

"Who?  Ste.  Luce!  Was  it  he  that  troubled 
thee  ? " 

"Yes;  he." 

"  But  what  then  ?  » 

By  and  by  Pierre  sat  up.  Seeing  him  to  be  quite 
himself,  but  staring  about  as  if  in  fear,  Frangois 
said: 

"  Come,  now ;  I  must  have  the  whole  story.  What 
the  mischief  has  this  fine  gentleman  done  to  thee? 
I  am  out  of  patience  with  thy  tiresome  mysteries.  I 
know  him ;  we  have  met  before.  Perhaps  I  can  help 
thee." 

"Thou?" 

Pierre  lay  back  on  the  floor,  and  covered  his  face. 

"Mon  Dieu  !  "  he  cried,  "  why  wilt  thou  force  me  to 
talk  of  it?  Oh,  to  hate,  and  to  be  afraid!"  He 
started  up.  "  I  am  afraid." 

"If  I  hated  a  man,"  said  Frangois,  " sacre  bleu!  I 
would  twist  his  neck." 

"  If  I  could  !  if  I  could  !  I  am  not  like  thee.  I  am 
—  am  a  coward.  That 's  the  truth." 

"Dame!   that  is   curious."    He  regarded  the  fat 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       75 

little  man  with  attentive  eyes.  "  Suppose  we  have 
it  all  out,  and  get  dono  with  it." 

" Done  with  it!" 

"Yes;  done  with  it!  Hast  thou  often  had  these 
fits  before  ? " 

"  Yes ;  and  then  I  am  better  for  a  while." 

"  Tell  me  all  about  this  man.  I  will  take  care  of 
thee." 

"  No ;  God  did  not :  thou  canst  not." 

"  Then  we  must  separate.  I  am  tired  of  thy  non 
sense,  and  I  do  not  care  a  rap  how  soon  this  business 
ends,  what  with  your  cursed  melancholy  and  that 
jade  Quatre  Pattes.  Now,  out  with  it !  " 

Pierre,  seated  on  the  floor  of  the  booth,  red-eyed 
and  dejected,  looked  up  piteously  at  his  questioner. 
"  If  I  tell  thee  all,  thou  wilt  despise  me." 

"Not  I.  Go  on!  If  thou  canst  speak  out  like  a 
man,  I  may  be  able  to  help  thee;  but  if  thou  art  of  a 
mind  to  hold  thy  tongue,  it  were  better  we  parted.  I 
am  tired  of  thy  folly." 

Thus  urged,  Pierre  told  his  story,  reluctant,  with 
bowed  head,  and  at  times  in  tears.  Franqois  sat  over 
him  on  a  stool,  now  and  then  asking  a  question,  or 
waiting  patiently  when  Pierre,  choked  by  overmaster 
ing  emotions,  was  silent  for  a  while. 

"I  have  been  unhappy  and  unlucky  from  the  time 
I  can  first  remember,"  said  Pierre.  "  My  people  be 
longed  to  the  lesser  noblesse,  but  my  father  was  poor 
—  oh,  very  poor.  We  had  been  ruined  folks  away 
there  in  Normandy  for  half  a  century,  only  a  bit  of 
farm  and  vineyard  left  to  us.  My  mother  was  of  the 
bourgeoisie,  foolish  and  pretty.  She  died  young,  and 


74       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

At  last  Despard  opened  his  eyes.  "  Take  him 
away/'  he  said.  The  man  was  delirious. 

"  Who  ? " 

"Take  him  away.  Will  he  kill  me?  He  killed 
her."  A  half -hour  he  wandered  in  mind,  while  Fran- 
9018  bathed  his  flushed  face.  Then  he  drew  a  deep 
breath,  and  said :  ''  What  is  this  ?  Where  am  I  ? " 

Francois  replied :    "  Thou  hast  had  a  fit." 

"A  fit?  Yes;  I  have  them  —  not  often.  I  remem 
ber  now.  Has  he  gone,  that  devil  ?  —  that  marquis  ? " 

"Who?  Ste.  Luce?  Was  it  he  that  troubled 
thee 1 " 

"Yes;  he." 

"  But  what  then  ?  " 

By  and  by  Pierre  sat  up.  Seeing  him  to  be  quite 
himself,  but  staring  about  as  if  in  fear,  Fra^ois 
said: 

"  Come,  now ;  I  must  have  the  whole  story.  What 
the  mischief  has  this  fine  gentleman  done  to  thee? 
I  am  out  of  patience  with  thy  tiresome  mysteries.  I 
know  him ;  we  have  met  before.  Perhaps  I  can  help 
thee." 

"  Thou  ? " 

Pierre  lay  back  on  the  floor,  and  covered  his  face. 

"Mon  Dieu  !  "  he  cried,  "  why  wilt  thou  force  me  to 
talk  of  it  ?  Oh,  to  hate,  and  to  be  afraid ! "  He 
started  up.  "  I  am  afraid." 

"If  I  hated  a  man,"  said  Francois,  u sacre  bleu!  I 
would  twist  his  neck." 

"  If  I  could  !  if  I  could  !  I  am  not  like  thee.  I  am 
—  am  a  coward.  That  's  the  truth." 

"Dame!   that  is  curious."    He  regarded  the  fat 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       75 

little  man  with  attentive  eyes.  "  Suppose  we  have 
it  all  out,  and  get  done  with  it." 

"  Done  with  it  ? " 

"Yes;  done  with  it!  Hast  thou  often  had  these 
fits  before  ? " 

"  Yes;  and  then  I  am  better  for  a  while." 

"Tell  me  all  about  this  man.  I  will  take  care  of 
thee." 

"'  No ;  God  did  not :  thou  canst  not." 

"  Then  we  must  separate.  I  am  tired  of  thy  non 
sense,  and  I  do  not  care  a  rap  how  soon  this  business 
ends,  what  with  your  cursed  melancholy  and  that 
jade  Quatre  Pattes.  Now,  out  with  it !  " 

Pierre,  seated  on  the  floor  of  the  booth,  red-eyed 
and  dejected,  looked  up  piteously  at  his  questioner. 
"  If  I  tell  thee  all,  thou  wilt  despise  me." 

"Not  I.  Go  on!  If  thou  canst  speak  out  like  a 
man,  I  may  be  able  to  help  thee;  but  if  thou  art  of  a 
mind  to  hold  thy  tongue,  it  were  better  we  parted.  I 
am  tired  of  thy  folly." 

Thus  urged,  Pierre  told  his  story,  reluctant,  with 
bowed  head,  and  at  times  in  tears.  Francois  sat  over 
him  on  a  stool,  now  and  then  asking  a  question,  or 
waiting  patiently  when  Pierre,  choked  by  overmaster 
ing  emotions,  was  silent  for  a  while. 

"I  have  been  unhappy  and  unlucky  from  the  time 
I  can  first  remember,"  said  Pierre.  "  My  people  be 
longed  to  the  lesser  noblesse,  but  my  father  was  poor 
— 'Oh,  very  poor.  We  had  been  ruined  folks  away 
there  in  Normandy  for  half  a  century,  only  a  bit  of 
farm  and  vineyard  left  to  us.  My  mother  was  of  the 
bourgeoisie,  foolish  and  pretty.  She  died  young,  and 


76       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

I  was  left  the  only  child.  My  father  treated  me  ill.  I 
had  no  courage,  he  said.  It  was  true.  As  I  grew  up,  I 
was  timid  like  a  girl,  arid  fearful  of  quarrels.  When 
I  was  about  twenty  years  old  I  had  a  trouble  with  a 
brother  of  this  marquis.  He  struck  me  with  his  whip 
because  of  something  I  said.  My  father  learned  that 
I  had  excused  myself,  and  was  wild  with  rage.  It 
was  my  bourgeois  mother,  he  said;  we  had  lost  all 
but  honor,  and  now  that  too  was  gone.  He  died  not 
long  after,  and  I,  with  a  few  hundred  francs,  was 
driven  out  to  care  for  myself.  The  marquis  had  a 
mortgage  on  the  farm.  I  went  to  a  village  near  by, 
and  lived  awhile  as  I  could  until  I  was  down  to  my 
lust  sou.  I  worked  like  a  peasant  in  the  fields ;  I  was 
the  servant  at  an  inn.  At  last  a  mountebank  com 
pany  attracted  me,  and  in  despair  I  went  with  them 
to  take  care  of  the  horses  which  served  them  in  their 
performances.  By  and  by  I  learned  sleight  of  hand, 
and  fared  better.  At  last  I  married  a  girl  who  danced 
in  our  company.  She  was  pretty, —  oh,  more  than 
pretty, —  and  clever,  too.  When  we  came  again  to 
our  town,  a  notary  offered  me  a  petty  clerk's  place, 
and  I  was  well  contented  to  settle  down.  My  wife 
was  too  eager  for  the  society  of  the  bourgeoisie,  and 
they  would  have  none  of  that  of  the  dancing-girl. 
Then,  unhappily,  this  marquis  saw  my  wife,  and  how 
I  know  not,  but  his  fine  clothes  and  cunning  were  too 
much  for  one  who  was  eager  for  a  society  she  could 
not  have.  I  was  busy,  and  often  absent  collecting 
small  debts.  No  one  warned  me.  I  was  satisfied, 
and  even  put  by  a  little  money. 

"  There  was  a  woman  in  the  village,  Mme.  Quintette, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS       77 

a  dressmaker,  a  shameless  creature  of  bad  life.  She 
might  have  been  then  some  fifty  years  old.  'T  is  now 
twelve  years  ago.  At  her  house  the  marquis  met  my 
wife.  One  day  my  Renee  was  gone,  and  this  Quin 
tette  with  her.  It  is  she  who  is  this  Quatre  Pattes." 

"  The  deuce  !  "  cried  Frangois.     "  Now  I  see." 

"  More  than  a  year  went  by.  Thou  wouldst  have 
killed  the  man.  I  could  not.  I  am  a  coward,  Francois 
— a  coward!  God  made  me  so;  I  can't  help  it.  One  day 
an  infant  was  brought  to  my  door,  with  a  note.  Mon 
Dieu,  such  a  note  !  The  dying  mother  in  the  hospital 
with  her  last  money  paid  a  good  sister  to  take  the 
child  to  me  —  to  me,  of  all  men  !  And  would  I  par 
don  her  ?  Frangois,  it  was  that  devil's  babe  and  hers. 
Would  I  forgive  her,  and  keep  it?  Wouldst  thou 
have  kept  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Francois ;  "  not  I." 

"  I  did !  I  did  !  It  was  like  her,  all  but  the  eyes. 
I  grew  to  love  it.  Then  there  was  an  accident,  a  fall, 
and  the  little  maid  is  crippled  for  life.  It  seemed 
horrible,  but  now  I  thank  God,  because  she  is  safe 
from  the  baseness  of  men.  I  wanted  to  die,  but  I  must 
live;  she  has  no  other  friend." 

Frangois  sat  still,  pitiful,  and  deep  in  thought.  At 
last  he  said :  "  Why  were  you  so  terribly  afraid  of 
that  woman  ?  She  could  do  no  worse  than  ruin  our 
business." 

"I  —  hast  thou  ever  been  afraid  thou  wouldst  mur 
der  some  one?  I  was.  I  would  have  done  it  in  a 
minute  hadst  not  thou  come  in." 

"Sac  a  papier!'  Afraid  of  thyself!  How  queer! 
Thou  wert  afraid  of  thyself?" 


78  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEAN(;OIS 

"Yes;  I  am — I  was — I  am  often  afraid  of  myself." 

"  Let  us  forget  it." 

"I  cannot.     What  can  I  do?" 

"Do?     Nothing." 

"  But  that  man  — 

"  Well,  thou  art  helpless.  I  should  not  be.  Forget. 
Thy  chance  may  come.7'  He  was  at  the  end  of  his  wis 
dom.  He  pitied  this  weak-hearted  coward  who  so 
frankly  avowed  his  defect.  "  We  will  speak  of  it  no 
more,  Pierre,  or  not  now.  But  what  brought  you  to 
Paris  ?  Let  us  have  it  all,  and  get  done  with  it." 

"  My  poor  little  humpback  was  hardly  six  years  old 
when  she  came  to  me,  crying,  to  know  why  the  village 
children  would  not  play  with  her.  She  was  a  hump 
back  and  a  bastard.  What  was  'bastard'?  I  have 
always  fled  from  trouble.  One  day  I  took  the  child 
and  what  little  I  had,  and  was  away  to  Paris.  God 
knows  how  it  hurt  me  to  hear  every  evening  how  she 
had  been  mocked  and  tormented;  one  is  so  foolishly 
tender.  In  this  great  city  I  sought  work,  and  starved. 
And  when  at  last  she  was  fading  before  my  eyes,  I 
stole  —  my  God,  I  stole ! " 

"Dame !  thou  art  particular.    Must  a  man  starve?" 

"  When  I  got  money  out  of  a  full  purse  I  took,  I  set 
up  our  little  business,  and  then  I  found  thee.  And 
this  is  all.  I  dare  say  I  shall  feel  better  to  have  told 
some  one.  I  did  not  want  to  steal.  I  did  not  steal 
after  I  began  with  the  booth,  unless  I  was  in  need  — 
oh,  sorely  in  need.  It  was  so  on  that  fortunate  day 
when  I  was  saved  by  thee.  In  thy  place  I  should 
have  kept  the  old  fishwife's  purse." 

"  And  let  me  swing  !  " 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       79 

"Yes— perhaps;  I  don't  know.  I  —  it  is  well  for 
me  thou  wert  not  a  coward." 

11  Sacrist  ic  I  It  appears  that  not  to  be  a  coward  has 
its  uses.  Now  bon  jour  and  adieu  to  the  whole  of  this 
business.  Let  the  miserable  past  go.  'T  is  bad  com 
pany,  and  not  amusing.  Have  no  fear;  I  will  take 
care  of  thee.  Come,  let  us  go  home." 

"Thou  wilt  look  about  a  little  before  we  go?" 

"Toto,  he  is  mad,  this  man." 

'"  I  sometimes  think  I  am.  At  night,  in  my  dreams, 
I  have  him  by  the  throat,  and  he  laughs,  and  I  cannot 
hold  him.  I  wake  up,  and  curse  in  the  darkness  be 
cause  I  cannot  kill  him.  And  then  I  know  it  is  a  debt 
never  to  be  paid  —  never." 

Franqois  had  had  enough  of  the  small  man's  griefs. 
Contempt  and  pity  were  strangely  mingled  as  he  lis 
tened  to  his  story. 

"I  shall  let  thee  talk  no  more,"  he  said.  "But  mille 
tonnerres!  I  cannot  help  thee  to  go  mad.  Let  us  go 
and  wander  in  the  country  to-morrow,  thou  and  I  and 
Toto.  It  will  comfort  thee.  But  no  more  of  this ;  I 
will  not  stand  it." 

The  advice  was  wholesome,  and,  as  usual,  Pierre 
accepted  the  orders  of  his  more  sturdy-minded  friend. 


X 

Hoiv  Pierre  became  a  Jacobin  and  liow  a  nation  became, 
insane. 


the  marquis  was  not  again 
upon  the  scene,  as  the  months  went 
by  Despard  became  by  degrees  more 
gloomy.  At  night,  in  place  of  the  gay 
little  cafe,  he  went  out  to  the  club  of 
the  Jacobins,  and  fed  full  of  its  wild  declamations 
against  the  emigres  and  the  aristocrats.  It  amused 
Franqois,  who  saw  no  further  ahead  than  other  men. 
Despard  came  home  loaded  with  gazettes  and  pam 
phlets,  and  on  these  he  fed  his  excitement  long  after 
his  partner  was  asleep. 

When,  as  time  went  by,  Pierre's  vagaries  increased, 
Francois  found  in  them  less  subject  for  mirth.  The 
fat  little  man  sat  up  later  and  later  at  night.  At 
times  he  read;  at  others  he  walked  about  muttering, 
or  moving  his  lips  without  uttering  a  sound.  What 
disturbed  Francois  most  was  that  the  poodle  now  and 
then  showed  fear  of  Pierre,  and  would  no  longer  obey 
him  as  he  had  been  used  to  do. 

Meanwhile,  as  Pierre  still  attended  sedulously  to 
business,  Frai^ois  could  find  no  fault.  He  himself 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS       81 

had  become  devoted  to  his  art  of  palm-reading.  He 
bought  at  the  stalls  old  books,  Latin  and  French, 
which  treated  of  the  subject,  and  tried  to  keep  up  the 
name  his  odd  ways  had  made  so  profitable.  Deceit 
was  a  part  of  his  working  capital;  but  deceit  and 
credulity  are  apt  to  go  together,  as  a  great  man  has 
well  said.  Not  for  many  louis  would  the  conjurer 
have  let  any  one  read  again  the  lines  of  his  own  hand. 
When  Despard  began  to  teach  him  the  little  he  him 
self  knew  of  palmistry,  it  had  caused  interest,  and 
after  a  while  a  half- belief.  This  grew  as  he  saw  the 
evident  disturbance  to  which  the  use  of  his  art  gave 
rise  in  certain  of  those  who  at  first  appeared  to  look 
upon  it  as  an  idle  jest.  The  imaginative  have  need 
to  be  wary,  and  this  man  was  imaginative,  and  had 
the  usual  notions  of  the  gambler  and  thief  as  to  omens 
and  luck.  I  have  said  he  had  110  definite  working 
conscience.  I  have  also  said  that  he  possessed  an  in 
born  kindness  of  heart ;  he  had  a  long  memory  for 
benefits,  and  a  short  one  for  injuries.  His  courage 
was  of  fine  quality:  not  even  Quatre  Pattes  could 
terrify  him. 

The  politics  of  the  time  were  becoming  month  by 
month  more  troublous  to  such  as  kept  their  heads 
steady  in  the  amazing  tumble  of  what  for  centuries 
had  been  on  top,  and  the  rise  of  that  which  had  been 
as  long  underneath.  The  increasing  interest  of  Pierre 
in  all  that  went  on  surprised  Franqois,  and  sometimes, 
as  I  have  said,  amused  him.  He  could  not  compre 
hend  why  he  should  care  whether  the  king  ruled,  or  the 
Assembly.  This  mighty  drama  was  nothing  to  him. 
He  paid  no  taxes ;  he  toiled  not,  nor  spun,  except  nets 


82       THE  ADVENTUKES  OF  FRANgOIS 

of  deceit;  and  whether  or  not  commerce  died  and  the 
plow  stood  idle  in  the  furrow  was  to  him  of  no  moment. 
Meanwhile,  before  the  eyes  of  a  waiting,  wondering 
world  historic  fate  was  shuffling  the  cards  as  neither 
war  nor  misrule  had  shifted  them  for  many  a  day. 
Knave  and  king,  spade  and  club,  were  now  up,  now 
down.  Every  one  was  in  a  new  place.  The  old  sur 
names  were  replaced  by  classical  appellations.  Streets, 
palaces,  and  cities  were  rebaptized  with  prenominal 
republican  adjectives.  Burgundy,  Anjou,  Navarre, 
and  the  other  ancient  provinces,  knew  no  more  their 
great  names  heroically  famous. 

All  men  were  to  be  equal ;  all  men  were  free  to  be 
what  they  could.  But  the  freedom  of  natural  or  ac 
quired  inequality  was  not  to  be  recognized.  There 
were  new  laws  without  end.  The  Jacobin  added  a 
social  creed.  All  men  must  tutoyer.  "  Your  Majesty  " 
was  no  more  to  be  used.  Because  the  gentles  said 
"thou"  and  "thee"  to  one  another  and  to  an  inferior, 
all  men  must  "thou"  as  a  sign  that  all  are  on  a  level. 

A  bit  of  paper  was  to  be  five  francs  —  and  take  care 
of  thy  head  if  thou  shouldst  venture  to  doubt  its  value. 
As  to  all  else,  men  accepted  the  numberless  and  be 
wildering  decrees  of  the  Assembly.  But  the  laws  of 
commerce  no  ruler  can  break.  These  are  despotic, 
changeless,  and  as  old  as  the  act  of  barter  between 
man  and  man.  The  assignats  fell  in  value  until  two 
hundred  francs  would  scarce  buy  a  dinner.  There, 
too,  was  a  new  navy  and  a  new  army,  with  confusing 
theories  of  equal  rights  for  sailor,  soldier,  and  captain. 

A  noble  desire  arose  everywhere  to  exercise  the  new 
functions.  What  joy  to  cast  a  ballot,  to  act  the  part 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       83 

of  officials,  to  play  at  soldiering  !  All  the  cross  dogs 
in  France  are  unchained  and  the  muzzles  off;  and 
gome  are  bloodhounds.  What  luxury  to  be  judge, 
jury,  and  hangman,  like  the  noble  of  long  ago ! 

Even  childhood  caught  the  temper  of  the  time.  It 
played  at  being  officer  and  prisoner,  built  and  tore 
down  bastilles,  and  at  last  won  attention  and  a  law  all 
to  itself  when  some  young  ruffians  hung  one  of  their 
number  in  good  earnest  for  an  aristocrat. 

However  indifferent  was  Fran9ois  at  this  time,  the 
shifting  drama  amused  him  as  some  monstrous  bur 
lesque  might  have  done.  Its  tragedies  were  as  yet 
occasional,  and  he  was  by  nature  too  gay  to  be  long 
er  deeply  impressed.  There  was  none  he  loved  in 
peril,  and  how  to  take  care  of  Francois  his  life  had 
taught  him  full  well. 

"  Allans  zi  yaiement!"  he  cried,  in  the  tongue  of  his 
old  quarter;  and  kept  a  wondering,  anxious  eye  on 
Pierre. 


XI 


The  juggling  firm  of  Dexpard,  Francois  &  Co.  is  broken 
up—Despard  goes  into  politics,  and  Francois  becomes 
a  fencing-master. 

January,  1791,  Francois,  having  of  late 
found  business  slack,  had  moved  to  the 
open  place  in  front  of  the  Palais  Royal. 
He  had  taught  Toto  new  tricks — to 
shoulder  a  musket  and  to  die  pour  la 
patrie.  Time  was  telling  men's  fortunes  quite  too  fast 
for  comfort.  Neither  his  old  devices  nor  Toto's  re 
cently  acquired  patriotism  was  of  much  avail.  More 
over,  Pierre  was  losing  interest  in  the  booth  as  he 
became  absorbed  in  politics. 

"Thou  wilt  not  go  to  thy  sacre  club,  Pierre,"  said 

Francois,  one  night  late  in  February.     "  Here  are  two 

days  thou  hast  left  us,  the  patriot  Toto  and  me,  to  feed 

thee  and  make  sous  for  the  poor  little  maid  at  Sevres." 

"  She  is  not  at  Sevres." 

"  Why  not  ?     Thou  hast  not  said  a  word  to  me  of 
this." 

"  No ;  I  had  more  important  matters  to  think  of." 
Francois,  who  was   tranquilly  smoking  his  pipe, 
84 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       85 

looked  up  at  his  partner.  The  mail  had  lately  worn 
a  look  of  self-importance. 

"  Well,  what  else  ? " 

'•  The  sisters  are  aristocrats.  A  good  eitoyenne  hath 
her.  I  shall  give  up  the  show.  The  country  calls  me, 
Pierre  Despard,  to  save  her.  The  great  Robespierre 
hath  asked  me  to  go  into  Normandy,  to  Musillon, 
whence  I  came.  I  am  to  organize  clubs  of  Jacobins." 
He  spoke  with  excitement,  striding  to  and  fro.  He 
declared  that  he  was  not  afraid  now  of  any  one.  To 
serve  France  was  to  have  courage. 

"And  how  as  to  money?"  asked  Francois. 

He  said  his  expenses  would  be  paid  by  the  clubs. 
Barnave,  Duport,  and  the  deputies  of  the  Right  must 
be  taught  a  lesson.  There  must  be  110  more  kings. 
The  people  must  rule — the  people!  He  declaimed 
wildly. 

"  Ficlitre! "  cried  Francois,  laughing.  "  It  does  seem 
to  me  that  they  rule  just  now." 

Pierre  went  on  with  increasing  excitement;  and 
would  not  Francois  go  with  him  ? 

u  Go  with  thee  ?  Thou  sayest  we  shall  be  deputies 
in  the  new  Convention.  A  fine  thing  that !  And 
Toto  too,  I  suppose  ?  Not  I.  I  am  an  aristocrat.  I 
like  not  thy  Robespierre.  As  to  the  show,  it  pays  no 
longer,  and  I  have  greased  the  claws  of  the  Crab  until 
there  is  no  more  grease  left.  I  shall  take  to  the  streets, 
Toto  and  I.  And  so  thou  art  to  be  a  great  man,  and 
to  play  poodle  on  thy  hind  legs  for  Petion  and  the 
mob  ? » 

Pierre  was  offended.  He  rose  and  stood  glaring  at 
Francois  with  wide-open  eyes ;  then  he  said,  as  if  to 


86       THE  ADVENT UEES  OF  FRANCOIS 

himself:  "The  marquis  is  near  Evreux.  Let  him 
take  heed !  " 

"  ^[on  Dieti!  He  will  eat  thee  as  he  would  the  frogs 
of  his  moat,  that  man !  I  am  not  of  those  who  fear, 
but  if  I  had  angered  him— 

"  I  have  named  him  to  the  great  Robespierre,  the 
just,  the  good.  He  will  remember  him." 

"  Then  go  ;  and  the  devil  take  the  whole  lot  of  you  !  " 

"  I  shall  go.  But  do  not  say  thou  art  an  aristocrat, 
for  then  I  must  hate  thee." 

"  Grand  merci!  Thou  poor,  fat  little  pug,  canst  thou 
hate  ? " 

"  Aye,  as  hell  hates."  Upon  this  Toto  took  refuge 
under  his  master's  bed. 

Francois  rose,  and,  standing  in  front  of  the  flushed, 
fat  little  man,  set  a  hand  on  each  of  Pierre's  shoulders 
and  stopped  his  excited  march. 

"  I  cannot  understand  thee.  I  never  could  contrive 
to  hate  even  a  gendarme,  and  if  hell  hates,  I  know  not. 
Thou  art  helpless  as  a  turtle  that  is  on  his  back.  What 
use  to  kick  ?  No ;  do  not  answer  me.  Hear  me  out. 
I  shall  go  my  way— thou  thy  way.  I  served  thee  a 
good  turn  once,  and  thou  hast  helped  me  to  a  liv 
ing.  Now  I  like  not  thy  ways ;  thou  art  going  mad, 
I  think." 

"  Perhaps— perhaps,"  returned  Pierre,  gloomily. 
"Well,  c'estfini — 't  is  done.  Now  to  settle." 

They  divided  their  spare  cash ;  and  after  that  Pierre 
went  to  his  club,  and  Francois  to  bed  and  a  dreamless 
sleep. 

In  the  morning  he  rose  early,  left  his  share  of  the 
rent  on  the  table,  and  with  a  little  bag  of  clothes,  and 


"HE  PAID  IX  ADVANCE   THE  CtJSTOilAKY    DEXIER  A  DIE0.' 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS       89 

Toto  after  him,  walked  away  across  the  Seine,  and  soon 
found  a  small  room  under  the  roof.  He  paid  in  ad 
vance  the  customary  denier  a  Dieu,  and  settled  down 
to  think. 

He  was  tired  of  the  sliOAv,  and  meant  to  resume  his 
old  trade.  His  conscience,  or  so  much  as  he  had,  was 
at  peace ;  all  France  was  plundering.  Now  the  nobles 
were  robbed,  and  now  the  church. 

"The  world  is  on  my  side,"  he  laughed,  as  he  sat 
with  Toto  on  his  knees,  looking  over  a  wide  prospect 
of  chimney-pots  and  tiles. 

Thus  began  again  the  life  of  the  thief;  but  now, 
thanks  to  his  long  training  as  a  juggler,  he  was  amaz 
ingly  expert.  He  took  no  great  risks,  but  the  frequent 
tumults  of  the  streets  were  full  of  chances,  although 
it  must  be  said  that  purses  were  thinner,  watches  and 
gold  snuff-boxes  rarer,  and  caution  less  uncommon 
than  it  had  once  been.  If  business  prospered,  he  and 
Toto  took  long  holidays  in  the  country,  and  did  a  little 
hunting  of  rabbits  ;  for  the  gamekeeper  was  no  longer 
a  person  to  be  dreaded.  Sometimes,  lying  on  the  turf, 
he  thought  how  pleasant  would  be  a  bit  of  garden,  and 
assurance  of  good  diet  and  daily  work  to  his  taste.  I 
fear  it  would  scarcely  have  been  long  to  his  taste. 
When  something  like  a  chance  came,  he  could  not 
make  up  his  mind  to  accept  the  heaven-sent  offer. 
He  was  to  see  many  things  and  suffer  much  before  his 
prosperous  hour  arrived. 

One  fine  day  in  April,  Francois,  with  whom  of  late 
fortune  had  quarreled,  was  seated  in  the  sun  on  a 
bench  in  the  now  ill-tended  garden  of  the  Luxembourg. 
The  self-made  difficulties  of  the  country  were  affecting 

6 


90       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

more  and  more  the  business  of  the  honest,  and  of  that 
uncertain  guild  which  borrows  but  never  returns. 
He  had  a  way  of  taking  Toto  into  his  counsels. 
"  What  shall  we  do,  little  devil  ? "  The  poodle  barked. 
"No.  These  accursed  Jacobins  are  ruining  France. 
What,  knock  a  man  on  the  head  at  night !  Bad  dog, 
hast  thou  no  morals  ?  Va  done!  Go  to.  Thou  hast 
not  my  close  experience  of  the  lantern,  and  stone 
walls  for  a  home  I  like  not.  Work,  thou  sayest? 
Too  late ;  there  is  work  for  no  one  nowadays.  Thou 
wilt  end  badly,  little  monster." 

Toto  whined,  and  having  no  more  to  say,  fell  asleep. 
At  this  moment  Francois,  looking  up,  saw  go  by  a 
young  woman  in  black,  and  with  her  a  boy  of  perhaps 
ten  years.  On  the  farther  side  was  a  tall,  well-dressed 
man  of  middle  age,  whom,  as  he  was  looking  away, 
Francois  did  not  recognize.  Some  bright  thing  fell 
unnoticed  from  the  woman's  wrist,  and  lay  in  the  sun. 
u  Hist,  Toto!  Look  there— quick  !"  In  a  moment  the 
dog  was  away,  and  back  again,  with  a  small  miniature 
set  in  gold  and  surrounded  by  pearls.  It  was  the  por 
trait  of  a  young  officer.  Francois  hastily  put  it  back 
into  the  dog's  mouth,  saying :  "  Go  to  sleep  !  Down  ! 
down  quickly  !  "  The  dog,  well  taught,  accepted  the 
trust,  and  dropped  as  if  in  slumber,  his  head  on  his 
paws,  while  his  master  studied  the  weathercocks  on 
the  old  gray  palace.  A  moment  later  both  the  man 
and  the  woman  turned  to  look  for  the  lost  miniature. 
Then  Francois  saw  that  it  was  his  old  acquaintance 
the  marquis.  He  had  more  than  once  seen  him  in 
the  garden,  where  he  was  fond  of  walking;  but  the 
great  seigneur  had  passed  him  always  without  notice. 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS       91 

The  boy  ran  back  ahead  of  his  grandfather,  and  com 
ing  to  Francois,  said  innocently  : 

"  Monsieur,  have  you  seen  a  little  picture  madam e 
let  fall  ?  It  is  so  big,  and  I  saw  it  only  just  now  on 
her  wrist.  Please  to  help  us  to  look  for  it.  It  is  my 
father ;  he  is  dead." 

After  the  boy  came  the  woman,  looking  here  and 
there  on  the  gravel. 

"  Dame  de  Dieu!  she  is  beautiful,"  murmured 
Francois  ;  "  and  that  sacre  marquis  !  " 

The  voice  he  heard  was  sweet  and  low,  and  tender 
with  regret  at  her  loss. 

"  Has  monsieur  chanced  to  see  a  little  miniature  ? " 

Monsieur  was  troubled,  but  his  pocket  and  stomach 
were  both  empty.  Monsieur  was  distressed.  He  had 
seen  no  miniature. 

Next  came  the  marquis. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  "  he  said  pleasantly.  "  Here  is  the  citi 
zen  my  thief  again.  Have  you  seen  a  small  minia 
ture  ? " 

Francois  had  not. 

"  Diable!  'T  is  a  pity,  monsieur.  Well,  pardon  a 
ci-devant  marquis,  but  I  do  think  monsieur  knows  a 
little  too  much  of  that  miniature  for  his  eternal  salva 
tion.  Also,  monsieur  does  not  lie  as  well  as  might  be 
expected  from  one  in  his  line  of  life." 

Francois  rose.  He  was  embarrassed  as  he  saw  the 
tearful  face  of  the  woman. 

"  I  was  about  to  say  I  would  look — I  would  search." 

Ste.  Luce  smiled.     "Suppose  we  begin  with  you?" 

"I  have  it  not." 

"Well,  but  where  is  it?     I  am  not  a  man  to  be 


92 


trifled  with.  Come,  quick,  or  I  must  ask  the  gen 
darmes  yonder  for  a  bit  of  help." 

Franc,  ois  looked  at  him.  There  was  menace  in  those 
cold  gray  eyes.  Should  he  trust  to  his  own  long  legs  ? 
At  this  instant  he  heard  a  sob,  and  glancing  to  the 
right,  saw  the  woman  seated  on  the  bench  with  her 
face  in  her  hands,  the  little  fellow  at  her  side  saying : 
"Do  not  cry,  mama;  the  gentleman  will  help  us." 
The  gentleman  was  ill  clothed  and  seedy.  He  had 
seen  women  cry,  but  the}7  were  not  like  this  woman. 

"  M.  le  Marquis  does  me  injustice.  Permit  that  my 
dog  and  I  search  a  little." 

The  marquis  smiled  again.  "  Pardieu!  and  if  you 
search,  and  in  can  while  take  a  fancy  to  run,  your  legs 
are  long ;  but  now  I  have  you.  How  the  deuce  can  I 
trust  a  thief?" 

The  little  lad  looked  up.  "  I  will  go  with  monsieur 
to  look — and  the  dog ;  we  will  find  it,  mama." 

"  Monsieur  may  trust  me  ;  I  will  not  run  away,"  said 
Francois.  "If  monsieur  desires  to  search  me?" 

"  I  do  not  search  thieves." 

Francois  looked  at  this  strangely  quiet  gentleman 
with  the  large,  light-gray,  unpleasant  eyes,  and  then 
at  the  woman. 

11  Come,  Toto  ;  we  must  take  a  look." 

The  marquis  stood  still,  quietly  watching  thief,  dog, 
and  boy. 

"  Renee,"  he  said,  "  don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself." 

Then  from  a  distance  the  boy  cried,  "We  found  it, 
mama  !  "  and  ran  to  meet  her. 

The  marquis  took  it  as  Francois  rejoined  the  group. 

"All,  Master  Thief,  you  are  clever;  but  it  is  a  little 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       93 

wet,  this  trifle,  and  warm  too.  The  dog  had  it  all  the 
while  in  his  mouth.  He  is  well  taught.  Why  the 
deuce  did  you  give  it  up?" 

The  boy  began  to  understand  this  small  drama.  He 
had  the  courage  of  his  breed,  and  the  training. 

"Did  you  dare  to  steal  my  mama's  picture?" 

"Yes;  when  she  let  it  fall." 

"  I  know  now  why  you  were  glad  to  give  it  back. 
It  Avas  because  she  cried." 

"  Yes ;  it  was  because  she  cried." 

"  Venire  8t.  (7m/"  exclaimed  the  marquis,  who  was 
pleased  to  swear  like  Henry  of  Navarre.  "  You  are  a 
poor  devil  for  a  thief.  You  have  temptations  to  be 
good.  I  never  have  them  myself.  I  thank  Heaven 
I  have  reasonably  well  used  my  opportunities  to  be 
agreeably  wicked." 

"Father!  "  said  the  young  woman,  reproachfully; 
and  then  to  Francois :  "  If  you  are  a  thief,  still  I 
thank  you  ;  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  thank  you." 

"  And  how  many  louis  do  you  expect,  most  magnani 
mous  of  thieves  ? "  said  the  marquis. 

The  woman  looked  up  again.  "  Come  to  me  to-mor 
row  ;  I  will  find  a  way  to  help  you." 

Something  of  yearning,  some  sense  of  a  void,  some 
complexity  of  novel  distress,  arose  in  the  thief's  mind. 

"  Mon  Dieu!  madame,"  he  said,  turning  toward  her, 
without  replying  to  the  marquis,  "  you  are  a  saint.  I 
—I  will  think.  I  am  not  fit  for  such  as  you  to 
talk  to." 

"  Quite  true,"  said  the  marquis.  "  Hast  thou  thy 
purse,  Renee  ?  I  forgot  mine." 

"No,  no,"  she  said.     "Come  and  see  us— Rue  des 


94       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FKANgOIS 

Petits-Augustines— a  great  house  with  a  gilded  gate. 
You  will  come?  I  will  say  they  are  to  let  you  iu. 
Promise  me  that  you  will  come." 

"  And  bring  that  poodle,"  added  the  marquis ;  "  I 
will  l>uy  him." 

Francois  laughed  outright — that  merry  laugh  which 
half  Paris  had  learned  to  like,  till  Paris  tired  of  it  and 
of  its  owner. 

"  Monsieur  will  pardon  me.  I  cannot  sell  my  only 
friend.  Good  day."  And  he  walked  away,  the  boy 
crying  after  him:  "You  will  come?  Oh,  you  must 
come,  because  my  mama  says  so." 

The  marquis  muttered:  "Animal!  If  I  had  your 
carcass— no,  if  I  had  had  you  awhile  ago  in  Nor 
mandy,  your  manners  would  have  been  bettered.  But 
now  the  world  is  upside  down.  He  will  come,  Renee. 
If  thou  art  quit  of  him  for  two  hundred  francs  and  a 
few  lost  spoons,  thou  inayest  rest  thankful." 

Francois  moved  moodily  away.  Something  was 
wrong  in  his  world ;  an  angel  coming  into  his  crude 
life  would  not  have  disturbed  him  as  this  lady's  few 
kind  words  had  done,  and  yet  he  had  left  her  unan 
swered.  He  knew  he  had  been  a  fool,  but  knew  not 
why.  He  had,  too,  a  notion  that  he  and  this  marquis 
would  meet  again,  but  for  this  he  was  not  eager.  He 
recalled  the  palm-reading.  Had  the  woman  been 
alone,  he  would  probably  have  said  a  glad  "Yes"; 
but  now  his  inclinations  to  obey  her  were  sadly  diluted 
by  feelings  which  he  did  not  analyze,  or  perhaps  could 
not  have  analyzed.  He  did  not  accept  the  hand  thus 
stretched  out  to  save  him,  but  for  many  a  day  her 
tender  eagerness  and  the  pleading  face  which  had  so 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS       95 

attracted  him  came  before  him  at  times  with  a  look  of 
reproach.  Is  it  strange  that  this  glimpse  of  a  nobler 
nature  and  a  better  life  than  his  own  should  have 
had  an  influence  on  this  man  quite  the  reverse  of 
that  which  its  good  will  sought  to  effect  ?  He  cannot 
be  said  to  have  been  refined,  but  he  had  in  him  tastes 
which  are  the  germs  of  refinement,  and  which,  when 
I  knew  him,  had  no  doubt  produced  results.  Prob 
ably  he  was  in  1791  a  coarser  person,  but  he  must 
always  have  been  a  man  who  could  be  forced  by 
circumstances  to  think. 

It  may  have  been  that  the  sense  of  a  great  gulf  be 
tween  him  and  a  world  he  was  by  nature  inclined  to 
like  caused  one  of  those  rare  spells  of  despair  to 
which  the  gay  and  over-sanguine  are  liable.  Of  course 
he  had  seen  and  for  brief  seasons  shared  the  profligacy 
of  the  Cite, — his  memoirs  confess  this  with  absolute 
frankness,— but  these  gross  lapses  had  been  rare  and 
brief.  Now  he  plunged  headlong  into  the  worst  vile- 
ness  of  the  most  dissolute  quarter,  where  few  lived 
who  were  not  saturated  with  crime.  I  have  no  desire 
to  dwell  on  this  part  of  his  life.  A  month  passed 
away,  and  he  was  beginning  to  suffer  in  health.  This 
amazed  him.  He  had  not  hitherto  known  a  pang  save 
that  of  hunger.  He  began  to  drink  eau-de-vie  to  re 
lieve  his  sense  of  impaired  strength,  and  being  off  his 
guard  and  under  the  influence  of  the  temporary  mood 
of  rashness  which  drink  is  apt  to  cause,  he  twice  nar 
rowly  escaped  arrest. 

Under  the  vivid  impression  thus  created  he  was 
wandering  homeward  late  at  night  to  some  low  resort 
in  the  Cite,  when  in  the  Rue  aux  Feves  he  heard  a  cry 


96  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS 

in  front  of  him.  The  moon  was  bright,  and  he  saw  a 
man  set  upon  by  two  fellows.  The  person  assailed 
was  staggering  from  the  blow  of  a  club,  and  fell  with 
the  cry  which  the  thief  heard.  Both  bandits  threw 
themselves  upon  him,  and,  as  he  unwisely  struggled, 
Francois  saw  the  glitter  of  a  knife.  Clearly  this  was 
no  easy  prey.  As  the  three  tumbled  over  in  the  mud 
of  the  street  there  was  small  chance  for  a  decisive  use 
of  the  blade.  Francois,  as  I  have  said,  had  been  al 
ways  free  from  crimes  of  violence,  but  this  affair  was 
none  of  his  business,  and  had  his  pocket  been  full  he 
might  have  left  the  ruffians  and  their  prey  unmolested. 
His  purse,  however,  was  down  to  the  last  sou,  and 
here  wras  a  chance. 

He  called,  "  Catch  them,  Toto  !  "  and,  leaping  for 
ward,  seized  one  of  the  men  by  the  throat  and  threw 
him  on  his  back.  The  poodle  took  a  good  nip  of  the 
other  rascal's  leg,  and  when  the  man  broke  away  and, 
stumbling,  ran,  pursued  him  until  recalled  by  Francois's 
whistle.  Meanwhile  the  assaulted  man  sat  up,  a  bit 
dazed.  The  other  fellow — it  was  he  of  the  knife — was 
on  his  feet  again,  and  at  once  turned  furiously  on 
the  rescuer.  Francois  darted  to  one  side,  and,  catch 
ing  him  by  the  neck,  throttled  him  savagely.  His 
great  length  of  arm  made  it  impossible  for  the  scamp, 
who  was  short  and  strong,  to  reach  any  vital  organ. 
But  he  stabbed  Francois's  shoulder  over  and  over. 
Francois's  grip  on  the  throat  was  weakening,  when 
the  victim,  now  on  his  feet,  struck  the  man  under  the 
ear,  and  thus  knocked  him  clean  out  of  Francois's  fail 
ing  grip.  He  fell  headlong,  but  was  up  and  away  in 
a  moment,  while  a  crowd  began  to  collect. 


97 

"Hi !  it  is  Francois  !  "  some  one  cried. 

"  Quick  !  "  said  the  thief.  "  Room  there  !  Let  us 
get  out  of  this."  Seizing  the  man  he  had  saved,  he 
hustled  his  way  through  the  crowd  and  hurried  him 
toward  the  bridge.  In  a  few  minutes  they  were  stand- 
ins:  alone  bv  the  river,  amid  the  tombs  back  of  Notre 

\J  I 

Dame.     Then  the  man  spoke  : 

"  By  Heaven  !  thou  hast  saved  my  life.  Hallo  !  thou 
art  bleeding.  Here  !  "  and  he  tied  a  handkerchief 
about  his  shoulder.  "  We  shall  be  in  luck  to  find  a 
chaise.  Wait !  "  and  he  ran  away. 

Francois's  head  was  dizzy.  He  sat  on  a  tombstone, 
well  sobered  now,  but  bleeding  freely.  It  was  long 
before  he  heard  a  horse ;  and  when  in  the  chaise, 
where  Toto  promptly  followed  him,  he  fell  back,  and 
knew  little  more  until  they  stopped  in  the  Rue  St. 
Honore.  Here  his  new  acquaintance  got  out,  and 
soon  returned  with  a  glass  of  ean-de-rie.  With  this 
aid,  and  the  arm  of  his  host,  Francois  was  able  to 
reach  a  large  room  in  the  second  story.  He  fell  on  a 
couch,  and  lay  still  while  the  other  man  ran  out  to 
find  a  surgeon. 

On  his  arrival,  Francois  was  put  to  bed  in  an  ad 
joining  room,  and  for  two  weeks  of  care  and  good 
diet  had  leave  to  meditate  on  the  changeful  chances  of 
this  wretched  world.  For  a  while  he  was  too  weak  to 
indulge  his  customary  keenness  of  curiosity.  His 
host,  M.  Achille  Gamel,  paid  him  brief  visits,  and  was 
singularly  unwilling  to  talk  one  day,  and  the  next 
sufficiently  so  for  the  patient  to  learn  that  he  had  been 
in  the  army  as  a  maitre  d'armes,  and  was  now,  in  his 
own  opinion,  the  best  fencing-master  in  France. 


98       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

Through  the  partitions  could  be  heard  the  click,  click 
of  the  foils,  and  now  and  then  the  crack  of  pistols. 
After  a  fortnight  Francois's  wounds  were  fairly 
healed,  and  he  began  to  get  back  his  rosy  complexion 
and  his  unfailing  curiosity. 

One  pleasant  evening  in  June,  Gamel  appeared  as 
usual.  It  was  one  of  his  days  of  abrupt  speech. 

"Art  well?" 

"  Yes." 

u  Thou  art  soon  mended." 

"  Yes."  His  brevity  begot  a  like  form  of  answer, 
and  Francois  was  now  somewhat  on  his  guard. 

"  I  pay  my  debts." 

"  That  is  true." 

"  Now  thou  art  well,  what  wilt  thou  do  ? " 

"I — I — I  shall  go  away." 

"Why  didst  thou  help  me?" 

"  My  pocket  and  paunch  were  empty.  It  seemed  a 
chance." 

"Thy  two  reasons  are  good.     Who  art  thou?" 

"  Who  is  every  one  in  the  Cite  ?     A  thief." 

"  Diable!  but  thou  art  honest— in  speech  at  least." 

"Yes,  sometimes.  I  was  a  conjurer  too — for  a 
while." 

"  Yes.  yes,  I  remember  now.  Thou  art  the  fellow 
with  a  laugh.  I  see  not  yet  why  thou  hast  helped  me. 
Thou  mightest  easier  have  helped  the  rascals  and 
shared,  their  gains." 

Francois  began  to  be  interested,  and  laughed  a 
laugh  which  was  the  most  honest  of  his  possessions. 

"I  dislike  clumsiness  in  my  profession,"  he  said. 
"  Why  should  the  brutality  of  war  be  brought  into  a 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS       99 

peaceful  occupation  ? "  He  was  half  in  earnest,  half 
in  jest. 

"  That  is  a  third  reason,  and  a  good  one."  It  was 
difficult  to  surprise  Gamel.  "  Suppose  we  talk  busi 
ness/'  he  added. 

"  Mine  or  thine  ? " 

"Mine.  A  moment,  Citizen  Francois— permit  me, 
Pray  stand  up  a  moment." 

Francois  rose  as  the  fencing-master  produced  a 
tape-measure.  "  Permit  me,"  and  with  no  more  words 
he  set  one  end  of  the  tape  on  Francois's  shoulder  and 
carried  the  length  of  it  to  his  finger-tips. 

Francois  stood  still,  wondering  what  it  all  meant. 

"  The  deuce ! "  said  Gamel,  slowly  rolling  up  the 
measuring-tape. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?     What  is  wrong  ? " 

"Wrong?     Nothing.     It  is  astonishing !" 

"  What  ? " 

"This  arm  of  thine." 

"Why?" 

"  It  is  one  and  a  half  inches  longer  than  mine." 

"Well?" 

"A  gift !  To  have  the  longest  arm  in  Paris  !  Mon 
Dieu! " 

"What  of  that?" 

"  A  fortune  !  Phenomenal !  Superb  !  And  a  chest 
— and  muscles !  By  Hercules,  they  are  as  hard  as 
horn  !  " 

"Well?" 

"  Dialle!     Thou  art  dull  for  a  thief." 

Francois  had  a  high  opinion  of  himself.  He  said : 
"  Perhaps.  What  next  ? " 


100      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

"I  need  help.  I  will  teach  thee  to  fence  and  to 
shoot.  Canst  thou  be  honest  ?  I  ask  not  if  thou  art." 

11  Can  If  I  do  not  know.  I  have  never  tried  very 
long."  Then  he  paused.  To  fence  like  a  gentleman, 
to  handle  a  sword,  had  its  temptations.  "  Try  me." 

"Good!  Canst  thou  be  a  Jacobin  to-day  and  a 
Royalist  to-morrow  ? " 

"Why  not?" 

"The  messieurs  and  their  kind  fence  here  in  the 
morning ;  after  our  breakfast  come  the  Jacobins  about 
two.  I  ask  not  thy  politics." 

"Why  not?"  said  Francois,  who  was  the  frankest 
of  men — "why  not?  I  am  an  aristocrat.  I  am  at 
the  top  of  my  profession.  I  like  naturally  the  folks 
who  are  011  top." 

"  France  is  like  a  ball  now,  no  top,  no  bottom,  roll 
ing.  Let  us  be  serious." 

u  Dieu!  that  is  difficult.  I  want  to  quit  thieving. 
It  does  n't  pay  at  present.  I  accept  the  citizen's  offer. 
Does  it  include  my  dog  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  Toto— a  treasure  !  He  will  delight 
our  pupils." 

"  Good  !  He  must  have  a  little  sword  and  wear  a 
white  cockade  till  noon,  and  then  a  tricolor." 

"  And  will  five  francs  a  week  suffice  until  thou  art 
fit  to  teach?  And  thy  board  and  lodging — that  goes 
without  saying.  After  a  while  we  will  talk  again." 

"'T  is  a  fortune!"  said  Francois;  and  upon  this 
agreement  the  pair  fell  to  chatting  about  the  details  of 
their  future  work. 

"One  moment/'  said  Francois,  as  Gamel  rose. 
"  What  are  thy  own  politics  ? " 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  101 

"I  will  tell  thee  when  I  can  trust  thee,"  said  the 
fencing-master.  "Now  they  vary  with  the  clock." 

"  I  see.     But  I  have  told  thee  mine." 

u  Thou  wert  rash.     I  am  not." 

Francois  laughed  merrily,  "  Good  night."  He  was 
happy  to  be  at  rest,  well  fed,  and  with  something  to 
do  which  involved  no  risk.  Gamel  went  away,  and 
Francois  fell  to  talking  to  the  poodle. 

"  Toto  !  Sit  up,  my  sleepy  friend  !  Attention  ! 
What  dost  thou  think  of  M.  Achille  Gamel?"  The 
poodle  had  been  taught  when  questioned  to  put  his 
head  on  one  side,  which  gave  him  an  air  of  intelligent 
consideration.  "Ah,  thou  dost  think  he  is  as  long- 
legged  as  I !  Any  fool  of  a  cur  can  see  that.  What 
else? 

"  He  has  great  teeth — big — the  better  to  eat  thee, 
my  dear  !  Curly  hair,  like  thine,  and  as  black ;  a  nose 
—of  course  he  has  a  nose,  Toto.  Art  perplexed,  little 
friend  ?  Oh,  that  is  it !  I  see.  Thou  art  right.  He 
smiles ;  he  never  laughs.  'T  is  that  bothered  thee. 
Thou  dost  like  him  ?  Yes.  Thou  art  not  sure  ?  Nor 
I.  We  must  laugh  for  two.  The  bones  are  good 
here.  That  is  past  doubt.  We  will  stay,  and  we  will 
keep  our  eyes  open.  And  listen  now,  Toto.  We  are 
honest.  Good !  Dost  thou  understand  ?  No  more 
purses,  or  out  we  go.  No  stealing  of  cutlets.  Ah, 
thou  mayest  lick  thy  chops  in  vain,  bandit !  " 

A  few  days  later  Gamel  began  to  fence  with  Fran- 
c.ois,  who  liked  it  well.  He  was  strong,  agile,  and  like 
his  old  friends  the  cats  for  quickness  of  foot.  Gamel 
was  charmed. 

11  We  must  make  no  mistakes.     The  foil  held  lightly 


102  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

—so,  so  !  If  you  grasp  it  too  strongly  you  will  not 
feel  the  other's  blade.  That  is  better.  'T  is  the  fin 
gers  direct  the  point.  Thy  hand  a  little  higher— so, 
so!" 

They  fenced  before  the  pupils  came  and  in  the  inter 
vals  when  none  was  on  hand.  Francois  was  tireless. 

It  was  June  now,  and  Robespierre  was  the  public 
prosecutor,  with  Petion  at  his  side.  Gamel  read  aloud 
the  announcement  with  a  coldly  stern  face.  Fran- 
Qois  heard  it  with  indifference. 

"  Tiens! "  he  cried.  "  What  matters  it  ?  Dame! "  as 
he  lunged  at  the  wall,  "  I  do  believe  my  arm  is  an  inch 
longer."  He  was  thinking,  as  he  tried  over  and  over 
a  new  guard,  of  what  a  queer  education  he  had  had. 
Gamel  walked  away  into  his  own  room.  He  was  a 
man  who  often  liked  to  be  alone.  Apt  to  be  mono 
syllabic  with  his  pupils,  he  could  at  times  become 
seriously  talkative  at  night  over  a  pipe  and  a  glass. 
Francois  began  to  like  him,  and  to  suspect  that  he  in 
turn  was  liked  — a  matter  not  indifferent  to  this  poor 
devil,  who  had  himself  an  undeveloped  talent  for 
affection. 

"  Man  ami,  Toto  !  Let  us  think.  I  might  have  been 
a  priest.  What  an  escape !  Or  a  great  chorister. 
That  is  another  matter.  A  thief,  a  street-dog,  a  jug 
gler,  a  maitre  d'escrime.  Parbleu!  What  next  ?  We 
are  getting  up  in  the  world.  My  palm,  little  rascal  ? 
Thou  wouldst  read  it.  Ah,  bad  dog,  not  I !  Let  us 
to  bed ;  come  along.  It  seems  too  good  to  last." 


XII 

In  which  Toto  is  Keen  to  change  Ms  politics  twice  a  day 
—  the  mornings  and  the  afternoons  quarrel — In  which 
Jean  Pierre  Andre  Amar,  iLh  farouche"  appears. 

]HE  fencing-master  took  great  pains  with 
his  promising  debutant,  and  now  at  last 
thought  he  could  trust  him  to  give  les 
sons.  He  gave  him  much  advice,  full 
of  good  sense.  He  must  dress  simply, 
not  in  any  marked  fashion.  And  here  were  the  two 
cockades,  and  two  for  Toto,  who  was  fitted  with  a  toy 
sword,  and  had  been  taught  to  howl  horribly  if  Fran 
cois  said,  "Citizen  Capet."  and  to  do  the  like  if  he 
cried,  "  Aristocrat !  " 

Francois,  gay  and  a  little  anxious,  followed  Gamel 
for  the  first  time  during  the  lesson-hours  into  the 
salle  d'armes.  Toto  came  after  them  in  full  rig,  with 
a  cap  and  a  huge  white  cockade.  A  dozen  gentlemen, 
most  of  them  young,  were  preparing  to  fence. 

The  poodle  was  greeted  with  "  Bravo  !  "  and  strutted 
about  on  his  hind  legs  with  evident  enjoyment  of  the 
approval. 

"  Wait  here,"  said  Gamel  to  Francois.  "  I  will  by 
and  by  give  thee  a  chance."  Francois  had,  of  course, 

103 


104  THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FEANgOIS 

been  constantly  in  the  room  when  the  patrons  were 
absent,  and  it  was  now  familiar.  It  had  been  part  of 
the  old  hotel  of  some  extinct  nobleman,  and  was  of 
unusual  height,  and  quite  forty  feet  square,  with  tall 
windows  at  each  end ;  a  cushioned  bench  ran  around 
the  walls,  and  above  it  hung  wire  masks,  foils,  sabers, 
and  a  curious  collection  of  the  arms  of  past  ages  and 
barbarous  tribes.  Chiefly  remarkable  were  the  many 
fine  blades,  Spanish  or  Eastern.  At  the  side  of  the 
hall,  a  doorway  led  into  the  shooting-gallery,  a  late 
adjunct  since  the  English  use  of  the  pistol  had  been 
brought  into  the  settlement  of  quarrels  made  savage 
by  the  angry  politics  of  the  day.  On  one  of  the  walls 
of  the  fencing-room  was  a  large  sign  on  which  was 
painted :  "  Achille  Gamel,  ci-devant  Maitre  d'Armes, 
Regiment  du  Due  de  Rohan-Chabot.  Lessons  in 
the  small  sword,  saber,  and  pistol."  The  word  "  Due  " 
was  chalked  over,  but  was  still  easily  to  be  made 
out. 

Presently  Gamel  came  to  Francois  in  his  shirt 
and  breeches,  foil  in  hand.  "This  way,  Francois." 
As  they  slowly  crossed  the  room,  Gamel  went  on  to 
say  in  a  low  tone  of  voice :  "  Don't  be  too  eager. 
Take  it  all  as  a  matter  of  course.  Don't  be  nervous. 
One  must  have  had  a  serious  affair  or  two  before  one 
gets  over  the  foil  fever.  Remember,  you  are  here  to 
teach,  not  to  triumph.  There  are  few  here  you  can 
not  touch,  but  that  is  not  business." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Francois. 

"  I  will  give  you  for  your  lesson  the  best  blade  in 
Paris.  You  can  teach  him  nothing.  He  is  my  foster- 
brother,  the  Marquis  de  Ste.  Luce." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS      105 

"  Ste.  Luce  !  " 

"  Yes ;  he  is  here  often." 

As  they  approached,  the  great  gentleman  came  to 
meet  them,  separating  himself  from  the  laughing 
group  of  younger  men. 

"  Ma  foi ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Is  this  your  new  blade, 
Gamel?"  He  caught  Francois's  appealing  eye,  and 
showed  no  sign  of  having  known  the  thief  until  they 
were  apart  from  the  rest  and  had  taken  their  foils. 
Then  he  said  quietly,  "Does  Gam  el  know?" 

"  Yes,  monsieur.  I  saved  his  life  in  a  row  in  the 
Cite,  and  he  gives  me  this  chance." 

"  Good !  I  shall  not  betray  you.  But  beware ! 
You  must  keep  faith,  and  behave  yourself." 

'•  Monsieur  may  trust  me." 

"  And  you  can  fence  ? " 

"  A  little,  monsieur." 

"  Well,  then,  on  guard  !  "  The  marquis  was  pleased 
to  praise  the  new  teacher.  "He  has  a  supple  wrist, 
and  what  a  reach  of  arm  !  "  At  last  he  went  away  to 
GameFs  room,  where  they  were  absent  a  half-hour. 
These  private  talks,  Francois  observed  later,  were 
frequent,  especially  with  certain  of  the  middle-aged 
gentlemen  who  took  here  their  morning  exercise. 

After  this  first  introduction  to  business,  Francois 
sat  still  when  the  marquis  had  left  him.  By  and  by 
the  gentleman  came  back,  and  saying  a  word  of  en 
couragement  to  Francois,  went  away. 

"  Take  M.  de  Lamerie,  Francois,"  said  Gamel ;  and 
turning  to  a  gentleman  near  by,  added,  "A  vous, 
monsieur."  Others  began  to  select  foils  and  to  fence 
in  couples,  so  that  soon  the  hall  rang  with  the  click, 

7 


106      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANQOIS 

click  of  meeting  steel.  Francois  was  clever  enough 
to  let  his  pupil  get  in  a  touch  now  and  then,  and 
meanwhile  kept  him  and  those  who  looked  on  de 
lighted  with  his  natural  merriment.  He  was  soon 
a  favorite.  The  dog  was  made  to  howl  at  a  tricolored 
cockade,  and  proved  a  great  success.  As  to  the  fen 
cing-lessons,  Gamel  was  overjoyed,  and  as  time  ran  on 
came  to  trust  and  to  like  his  thief,  who  began  speedily 
to  pick  up  the  little  well-mannered  ways  and  phrases 
he  heard  about  him.  He  liked  well  to  be  liked  and  to 
be  praised  for  his  skill,  which  week  by  week  became 
greater,  until  none  except  M.  Gamel  and  the  marquis 
were  able  to  meet  him  on  equal  terms.  The  master 
of  arms  was  generous;  the  wages  rose.  The  clothes 
Francois  now  wore  were  better,  and  when  Gamel  asked 
him  to  choose  a  rapier  for  wear  in  the  street,  which 
was  not  yet  forbidden,  the  poor  thief  felt  that  he  was 
in  the  full  sunlight  of  fortune. 

The  afternoons  were  less  to  his  taste.  If  a  new 
pupil  arrived,  the  cook,  an  old  woman,  let  him  in,  and 
Gamel  saw  him  in  an  anteroom  and  settled  terms 
and  hours.  The  Jacobins  came  after  two  o'clock. 
Then  the  room  was  unusually  full.  The  poodle  howled 
at  the  name  of  Louis  Capet.  Tricolored  cockades 
were  everywhere.  The  talk  was  of  war  and  the  fron 
tier,  the  ways  of  speech  were  guarded,  the  manners 
not  those  of  the  morning.  These  citizens  were  awk 
ward,  but  terribly  in  earnest.  The  pistol-gallery  was 
much  in  favor ;  but  at  this  deadly  play  Francois  was 
never  an  expert.  He  did  not  like  it,  and  was  pleased 
when  the  Vicomte  de  Beausejour,  a  favored  pupil, 
said:  "'T  is  a  coarse  weapon,  Francois.  Ah,  well 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  107 

enough  to  enable  bulldog  English  to  settle  their  dis 
putes  over  a  bone ;  but,  dame!  quite  unfit  to  be  the 
arm  of  honor  of  gentlemen,"  This  uncertain  property 
of  honor  seemed  to  Francois  a  too  insecure  kind  of 
investment.  It  was  enough  to  have  to  take  care  of 
one's  pocket ;  and  his  being  now  well  lined,  Francois 
began  to  resent  the  possibility  of  those  sudden  changes 
of  ownership  which  under  other  conditions  he  had 
looked  upon  as  almost  in  the  nature  of  things. 

During  this  summer,  and  in  the  winter  of  '91  and 
'92,  Gamel  was  at  times  absent  for  days.  Whenever 
he  returned  he  was  for  a  week  after  in  his  monosylla 
bic  mood.  Francois,  who  was  keenly  alive  to  his 
present  advantages,  and  who  saw  how  these  absences 
interfered  with  their  business,  began  to  exercise  his 
easily  excited  inquisitiveness,  and  to  meditate  on  what 
was  beneath  Gamel's  frequent  fits  of  abstraction.  His 
own  life  had  known  disappointments,  not  always  of 
his  own  making.  He  dreaded  new  ones.  The  past  of 
the  Cite,  Quatre  Pattes,  Despard,  those  haunting  eyes 
of  the  marquis's  widowed  daughter,  the  choristers,  the 
asylum,  the  mad  street  life — all  the  company  of  his 
uncertain  days — were  gone.  Now,  of  late,  he  began 
to  have  a  feeling  of  uneasy  belief  that  things  were 
once  more  about  to  change.  Nor  was  the  outer  life 
of  the  capital  such  as  to  promise  tranquillity.  A  na 
tion  was  about  to  become  insane.  It  was  at  this  time 
like  a  man  thus  threatened :  to-day  it  was  sane,  to 
morrow  it  might  be  reeling  over  the  uncertain  line 
which  separates  the  sound  from  the  unsound.  Had 
Francois  been  more  interested  and  more  apprehensive, 
he  was  intelligent  enough  to  have  shared  the  dismay 


108  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEANgOIS 

with  which  many  Frenchmen  saw  the  growth  of  tu 
multuous  misrule.  Indeed,  the  talk  of  the  morning 
fencing-school  should  have  taught  him  alarm.  But 
he  had  formerly  lived  the  life  of  the  hour,  even  of  the 
minute,  and  as  long  as  he  was  well  fed,  housed,  and 
clothed,  his  normal  good  humor  comfortably  digested 
anxiety. 

I  should  wrongly  state  a  character  of  uncommon 
interest  if  I  were  to  give  the  impression  of  a  man  who 
had  merely  the  constant  hilarity  of  a  happy  child. 
He  was  apt  to  laugh  where  others  smiled ;  but,  as  he 
matured,  cheerful  contentment  was  his  usual  mood, 
and  with  it,  to  the  last,  the  probability  of  such  easily 
born  laughter  as  radiated  mirth  upon  all  who  heard 
it,  like  a  companionable  fire  diffusing  its  generous 
warmth.  He  was  at  this  time  doing  what  he  most 
fancied.  The  company  suited  him.  He  liked  the 
tranquil  ways  of  these  courteous  gentlemen.  In  a 
word,  he  was  contented,  and  for  a  time  lost  all  desire 
to  seek  change  or  adventure.  His  satisfaction  in  the 
life  made  him  more  quiet  and  perhaps  more  thought 
ful.  He  had  every  reason  to  be  cheerful,  and  cheer 
fulness  is  the  temperate  zone  of  the  mind. 

At  times,  on  Sundays,  in  the  summer  of  '92,  he 
wandered  into  the  country  with  Toto ;  but  these  holi 
days  were  rare.  Now  and  then  the  habits  of  years 
brought  again  the  longing  for  excitement;  with  the 
meal-hours  he  recovered  his  common  sense,  being  a 
big  fellow  of  sharp  appetite  and  a  camel-like  capacity 
for  substantial  food. 

The  feud  between  the  cockades  broke  out  at  this 
time  in  duels,  which  it  became  the  fashion  to  drive  to 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  109 

the  Bois  to  see.  Women  of  all  classes  looked  on  and 
applauded,  and  few  liked  it  if  the  affair  failed  to  prove 
grave.  Francois  found  it  entertaining.  The  duels 
were,  in  fact,  many  in  the  years  of  grace  '91  and  '92. 

The  morning  pupils  wore  their  hair  in  curls,  dressed 
in  short  clothes,  and  defied  the  new-fashioned  repub 
lican  pantaloons,  which  were  rising  up  to  the  armpits 
and  descending  the  legs.  They  carried  sword-canes, 
or  sticks  like  the  club  of  Hercules ;  a  few  still  wore 
the  sword.  Brown  and  gray  wore  the  afternoon  citi 
zens,  with  long  straight  hair,  short  waistcoats,  and 
long  and  longer  culottes  above  large  steel  shoe-buckles, 
all  that  were  silver  having  been  given  to  aid  the  funds 
of  a-  bankrupt  government.  The  morning,  which  knew 
very  well  who  came  in  the  later  hours,  abused  the 
afternoon,  and  this  portion  of  the  day  returned  those 
compliments  in  kind. 

Now  and  then  the  morning  had  a  little  affair  with 
the  afternoon,  for  the  Terror  w^as  not  yet.  In  cafes 
and  theaters  there  were  constant  outbreaks,  and  men 
on  both  sides  eager  enough  to  sustain  opinion  by  the 
sword  or  the  pistol.  When  one  of  what  FranQois 
called  ll  our  little  domestic  difficulties  "  was  on  hand, 
there  was  excitement  and  interest  among  Royalists 
and  Jacobins,  with  much  advice  given,  and  huge  dis 
gust  when  monsieur  was  pinked  by  Citizen  Chose  of 
the  Cordeliers  or  of  the  Jacobin  Club. 

If  the  reverse  obtained,  and  some  gentleman  of  ancient 
name  condescended  to  run  Citizen  Chose  through  the 
lungs,  there  was  great  rejoicing  before  noon  and  black 
looks  after  it.  Here  were  a  half-dozen  affairs  in  a 
month,  for  these  were  the  first  blades  in  France. 


110  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

There  were  laws  against  the  duel,  but  the  law  changed 
too  fast  for  obedience,  and  fashion,  as  usual,  defied  it. 
Hatred  and  contempt  were  ready  at  every  turn.  Two 
abbes  fought,  and  what  was  left  of  the  great  ladies 
went  to  see  and  applaud. 

This  duel  between  morning  and  afternoon  began  to 
amuse  Paris.  But  pretty  soon  neither  the  master  of 
arms  nor  his  assistant  was  as  well  pleased  at  the  ex 
cessive  attention  thus  drawn  to  the  school  of  fencing. 
Gamel  disliked  it  for  reasons  which  he  did  not  set 
forth,  and  Francois  because  he  felt  that  his  disturb 
ing  readiness  to  turn  back  to  a  life  of  peril  and  dis 
comfort  was  like  enough  to  be  reinforced  by  coming 
events.  He  adored  good  living,  yet  could  exist  on 
crusts.  He  was  intelligent,  yet  did  not  like  to  be 
forced  to  think.  An  overmastering  sense  of  the  ludi 
crous  inclined  him  to  take  the  world  lightly.  He  liked 
ease,  yet  delighted  in  adventure.  He  distrusted  his 
own  temperament.  He  had  need  to  do  so.  Excite 
ment  was  in  the  air.  The  summer  of  '92  was  unquiet, 
and  pupils  were  less  numerous,  so  that  Francois  found 
time  to  wander.  The  autumn  brought  no  change  in  his 
life,  but  Gamel  became  more  and  more  self-absorbed, 
and  neglected  his  pupils.  The  gentlemen  who  fenced 
in  the  mornings  began  to  disappear,  and  the  new  year 
of  1793  came  in  with  war  without  and  tumult  within 
distracted  France. 

For  several  days  before  the  21st  of  January,  1793, 
strange  faces  were  frequently  seen  in  the  morning 
hours,  or  more  often  late  at  night.  These  passed  into 
Gamel's  room,  and  remained  long.  The  marquis, 
more  thoughtful  than  usual,  came  and  went  daily. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  111 

Early  on  the  20th,  Gamel  told  Francois  that  he  should 
be  absent  until  after  the  21st,  the  day  set  for  the  king1 
to  die.  Francois  asked  no  questions,  and  was  not 
deeply  grieved  to  be  left  in  the  dark  as  to  what  was  in 
contemplation.  During  the  previous  week  there  had 
been  sad  faces  in  the  morning  hours.  The  pupils 
were  fewer;  they  were  leaving  Paris— and  too  many 
were  leaving  France.  The  Jacobins,  with  whom 
Francois  fenced  in  the  latter  part  of  the  day,  were 
wildly  triumphant.  They  missed  Gamel  when  he  was 
absent,  and  asked  awkward  questions.  It  was  plain 
enough  to  his  assistant  that  the  master  of  this  turbu 
lent  school  was  a  Royalist  enrage,  as  men  then  said. 
The  assistant  was  much  of  his  mind,  but  he  was  also 
far  more  loyal  to  one  Francois  than  to  the  unfortu 
nate  king. 

He  was  not  surprised  that  at  the  hour  of  opening 
on  the  21st  no  one  appeared.  He  sat  thinking,  and  a 
little  sorry  for  the  humbled  Louis  rumbling  over  the 
crowded  streets  to  his  doom.  The  prisons  were  al 
ready  becoming  crowded ;  the  richer  bourgeoisie  had 
become  submissive.  The  more  able  and  aggressive 
Jacobins  were  about  to  seize  the  reins  of  power  from 
the  sentimental  Girondists. 

"  Let  us  think  a  little,"  said  Francois  to  his  friend 
and  counselor  Toto.  The  poodle  woke  up,  and  sat 
attentive.  "  It  is  disagreeable  to  have  to  think,  man 
ami;  but  there  are  our  heads.  Without  a  head  one 
cannot  eat  or  enjoy  a  bone.  Shall  we  go  to  the  frontier, 
and  be  shot  at,  and  shoot?  Dame!  a  thousand  bullets 
to  one  guillotine.  We  do  not  like  that.  Let  us  change 
our  opinions,  Toto,  join  the  clubs,  and  talk  liberty. 


112  THE  ADVENTURES   OF  FRANCOIS 

Yes ;  that  is  thy  opinion.  Must  we  go  back  to  the 
streets  ?  'T  is  good  nowadays  to  be  obscure,  and  thou 
art  becoming  a  public  character,  Toto." 

He  read  the  gazette  awhile,  practised  with  the  pistol, 
and  taught  the  dog  a  new  trick.  Still  no  one  came, 
and  the  day  wore  on  to  noon.  At  this  hour  the  bell 
rang,  and  the  poodle  barked,  as  was  his  custom. 
"Learn  to  hold  thy  tongue,"  said  the  master.  The 
servant  had  gone,  like  all  Paris,  to  see  a  brave  man  die. 

Francois  opened  the  outer  door.  A  strongly  built 
man  he  had  never  before  seen  entered,  and,  pushing  by 
him,  went  without  a  word  into  the  great  room  beyond. 

"Hallo,  citizen!  What  dost  thou  want?"  said 
Francois,  following  him. 

"Art  thou  Citizen  Gamel?" 

Francois  was  not ;  and  what  could  he  do  for  the 
citizen  ? 

The  man  for  a  moment  made  no  reply,  but  glanced 
searchingly  about  the  hall,  while  the  assistant  looked 
him  over  as  keenly.  He  was  a  personage  not  easily  to 
be  forgotten. 

"No  one  else  here?"  he  asked. 

"  No  one." 

The  questioner  was  a  man  not  over  thirty-five,  of 
colossal  make,  and  with  something  about  him  which 
Toto  resented.  He  began  to  bark,  and  then,  of  a 
sudden,  fled  under  a  bench,  and  watched  the  new 
comer. 

His  features  were  out  of  keeping  with  his  height 
and  breadth.  The  Jacobin  had  small,  restless  eyes, 
a  diminutive  nose,  perhaps  broken,  and  a  large-lipped 
mouth,  which,  as  he  talked,  was  drawn  to  one  side  as 


'AND  SO   A   DOG   18   SENT  TO    FETCH   THE 
SAFEGUARD  THE  PEOPLE  PKOVIDE  ?  '  " 


THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FRANCOIS  115 

though  from  some  loss  of  power  on  the  other  half  of 
the  face. 

"  I  am  Jean  Pierre  Andre  Amar,"  he  said,  with  an 
air  of  importance. 

"  Will  the  citizen  be  seated  ? " 

He  would  not.     He  desired  to  see  Citizen  Gam  el. 

Francois  regretted  his  absence  on  business.  Amar, 
later  known  as  le  farouche,  desired  to  see  the  list  of 
pupils,  in  order  to  select  an  unoccupied  morning  hour. 
Unluckily,  the  master  had  the  keys.  The  citizen 
wished  to  fence,  and  could  come  in  the  morning  only  ; 
he  was  busy  after  that.  Francois  would  mention  his 
name ;  perhaps  the  hours  of  the  morning  were  full, 
but  Citizen  Gamel  would  no  doubt  arrange. 

The  man  with  the  wandering  mouth  stood  in 
thought,  said  he  would  return,  and  then  asked 
abruptly : 

"  Art  thou  his  assistant?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  thy  name  ? " 

"  Francois." 

"Has  Citizen  Francois  a  carte-civique—a,  certificate 
of  citizenship  ? " 

Francois  knew  better  than  to  refuse.  "Fetch  me 
the  card,  Toto.  'T  is  on  the  chair  in  my  room.  Va 
-go!" 

11  Thou  art  careless,  Citizen  Francois." 

Francois,  on  this,  became  short  of  speech.  Toto 
ran  back.  a  Give  it  to  the  citizen." 

Amar  took  it,  saying:  "It  is  correct.  And  so  a 
dog  is  sent  to  fetch  the  safeguard  the  people  pro 
vide  ? " 


116      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

Francois  laughed.  "  The  citizen  is  particular.  But 
here  we  are  good  republicans,  and  have  given  our 
useful  arms  to  the  army,  and  think  to  go  soon  our 
selves.  Shall  I  give  the  citizen  a  lesson  ? " 

No ;  he  would  call  again.  The  section  wished  the 
names  of  all  who  fenced  here.  As  the  citizen  reached 
the  door,  he  said,  turning : 

"  Thou  art  the  man  who  used  to  laugh  in  the  show. 
Robespierre  told  me  of  what  fortune  was  read  on  his 
palm.  A  great  man.  Take  care  of  thy  own  fortune. 
Thou  art  not  of  the  club.  It  may  be  thou  wilt  laugh 
no  more."  This  while  the  distorted  mouth  went  to 
left  and  came  back,  and  the  small  eyes  winked  and 
wandered.  Francois  thanked  him.  He  would  join 
the  club,  the  list  should  be  ready,  and  so  on. 

When  alone  again,  Francois  began  to  reflect  on 
what  was  likely  to  happen.  At  any  time,  Amar  might 
return  with  a  guard.  On  the  23d,  as  usual  during 
this  sad  week,  there  were  no  morning  pupils;  and 
still  Gamel  came  not,  and  Francois  had  to  manage 
the  turbulent  afternoon  pupils  alone. 


XIII 


Citizen  Amar,  meeting  the  marquis,  is  unlucky  and  vin 
dictive. 

FEAR  vast  and  oppressive  was  upon  the 
great  city.  The  white  cockades  were 
gone.  Francois  burned  all  he  could 
find.  For  a  week  no  one  came  to  fence 
in  the  morning.  The  afternoons  were 
full,  and  there  was  much  inquiry  for  Citizen  Gamel. 
On  the  night  of  the  24th  of  this  terrible  January, 
1793,  Francois  went  out.  Paris  was  recovering,  and, 
as  usual,  forgetful,  was  eating  and  drinking  and 
dancing,  while  all  Europe  was  ringing  with  the  news 
of  this  murder  of  a  good  man  too  weak  for  a  mighty 
task. 

When,  later,  Francois  returned  to  the  school  of 
arms  he  smelt  the  odor  of  a  pipe.  "Ah ! "  he  cried, 
"  Toto,  he  has  come.  ;T  is  none  too  soon."  Candles 
lighted  dimly  the  large  hall  and  the  rooms  beyond 
it.  He  heard  no  sounds,  and,  suddenly  becoming 
uneasy,  hastened  to  enter  the  little  salon.  It  was 
empty,  as  were  all  the  rooms.  On  the  bedroom  floor 
lay  scattered  clothes.  Scorched  leaflets  were  flut 
tering  like  black  crows  over  the  ashes  of  a  dying 

117 


118      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

fire.  They  were  fragments  of  burnt  paper.  An  open 
desk  was  on  the  table,  and  everywhere  were  signs  of 
haste. 

Francois  ran  out  to  the  kitchen,  and  called  their 
only  servant,  a  shrewd  old  woman.  She  said:  "I 
heard  thee,  citizen.  I  was  coming  to  tell  thee  that 
Citizen  Gamel  has  gone." 

"  Gone  !     Mon  J)ieu! » 

II  He  has  paid  me,  and  well ;  and  here  is  a  box  for 
thee,  Citizen  Francois.     I  hid  it  under  the  mattress. 
Oh,  I  have  waited,  but  I  am  afraid." 

Francois  took  the  box  and  its  key,  and  went  to 
his  room.  The  box  contained  some  five  hundred 
francs  in  gold,  and  as  much  more  in  assignats — the 
notes  of  the  day,  and  really  worth  but  little.  In  a 
folded  package  were  papers  and  a  letter.  It  read 
thus : 

II 1  am  sorry  to  leave  thee.     A  business  affair  has 
failed,  and  I  go  westward.     I  risk  this  to  warn  thee 
to  fly.     For  two  days  thou  art  safe,  but  not  longer. 
If  a  gentleman  calls  whom  thou  knowest,  and  asks  for 
Monsieur  Achille  Game!,  tell  him  all.     I  inclose  for 
thee  a  passport.     No  matter  how  I  got  it.     It  is  good. 
Use   it   soon.     I   divide   with   theo  my  small  store. 
Thou  hast  been  honest ;  stay  so.     We  may  meet  in 
better  times." 

Francois  laughed.  "We  must  go,  Toto.  Well,  it 
has  a  good  side;  thou  wilt  get  thinner."  Then  he 
read  the  passport.  It  described  him  wrell :  Jean 
Francois,  juggler  ("Good  !  "),  returning  to  Normandy  ; 
affairs  of  family;  a  father  dying.  "Good!  Now  I 
have  one  parent  at  least,"  It  was  in  due  order. 


119 

"Thou  hast  no  papers,  Toto;  but  thy  black  head  is 
secure. " 

At  early  morning  on  the  25th  of  January,  he  found 
a  vender  of  antiquities,  and  quickly  sold  him,  for  two 
hundred  francs,  the  antique  arms  in  the  fencing-room. 
He  must  remove  them  that  coming  night.  Next  he 
sought  a  maker  of  articles  for  the  jugglers  who  were 
still  to  be  found  in  every  town ;  for  neither  at  this 
time  nor  during  the  Terror  did  the  people  cease  to 
amuse  themselves.  Francois  bought  a  set  of  gaily 
tinted  balls  and  the  conjuring  apparatus  with  which 
he  was  familiar.  Once  again  in  his  room,  he  packed 
his  clothes  in  a  knapsack  and  his  juggler's  material  in  a 
bag  that  he  could  carry.  A  long  cloak  which  his  mas 
ter  had  left  he  set  aside  to  take,  and,  thus  prepared, 
felt  that  on  the  whole  he  had  better  risk  waiting  until 
the  dawn  of  the  following  day  before  he  set  out  on  his 
wintry  journey.  The  old  woman  had  already  fled  in 
alarm. 

On  the  following  morning,  at  9  A.  M.,  Francois  went 
into  the  great  hall  to  secure  pistols  and  the  fine  Spanish 
rapier  which  Gamel  had  given  him.  Here  he  paused, 
and  re-read  the  passport.  A  blank  space  had  been 
left  for  the  insertion  of  the  special  locality  to  which 
the  bearer  might  wish  to  go  in  Normandy. 

"Ah !  "  he  exclaimed,  "that  must  do.  I  will  go  to 
Musillon.  Perhaps  I  shall  find  Despard.  He  will  help 
me  to  recover  that  desirable  papa."  He  went  back  to 
Gamel's  room,  and  carefully  completed  the  passport 
by  inserting  the  name  of  the  village  Musillon. 

After  this  he  returned  to  the  hall,  talking  to  the 
poodle  as  he  went.  "  Toto,  thou  art  uneasy,"  he  said ; 


120      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

"  and  I  too,  my  friend.  Remember  to  howl  no  more 
at  Jacobins.  Thou  art  of  the  Left,  a  dog  of  the  Left. 
Tiens!  the  bell."  He  caught  up  his  rapier,  and  opened 
the  door.  A  powerful,  broad-shouldered  man  entered. 
He  was  clad  in  gray,  and  wore  the  red  bonnet  the 
extreme  Jacobins  affected,  and  which  Robespierre  so 
much  despised. 

"  Ah,  no  one  here.  That  is  well.  I  trust  Gamel  has 
gone." 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Francois  to  himself.  "  'T  is  my 
confounded  marquis.  Now  for  ill  luck." 

"Is  Monsieur  Gamel  at  home?  Monsieur  Achille 
Gamel?"  He  emphasized  the  title. 

Francois  understood,  with  no  great  amazement,  that 
this  was  the  man  of  whom  Gamel's  letter  spoke.  He 
replied,  "  This  way,  please,  monsieur." 

The  gentleman  followed  without  a  word. 

"Read  this,"  said  Francois;  "and,  pardon  me,  but 
read  it  quickly.  My  head  appears  to  me  to  be  less 
securely  attached  to  my  body  than  common." 

"Dame!  You  are  as  jolly  as  ever,  my  delightful 
thief." 

"  I  beg  that  monsieur  will  read  this  letter,  and  at 
once.  Nom  de  del!  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost."  And 
still  he  laughed.  "  We  are  in  a  trap,  monsieur." 

The  marquis  was  not  to  be  hurried ;  it  was  not  his 
way.  "  St.  Gris !  you  can  laugh.  I  envy  you.  In 
France  men  grin,  for  they  must ;  but  laughter  is  dead. 
Ah !  "  and  he  fell  to  considering  the  letter.  Then  he 
folded  it  deliberately.  "  Burn  it,"  he  said.  "  So ;  that 
is  well ;  and  now,  my  good  thief,  I  came  to  warn 
Gamel.  He  has  wisely  fled.  Of  course  there  was  a 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS  121 

plot,  and,  as  usual,  it  failed.  You,  who  are  not  in  it, 
are  like  enough  to  pay  other  folks'  debts.  I  have  a 
certain  mild  interest  in  honest  rascality.  You  are 
a  marked  man.  No  cabbage  of  the  field  is  more  sure 
of  the  knife.  Go,  and  soon." 

"  I  have  heard  from  Gamel,  monsieur.  He  assured 
me  that  I  was  safe  here  for  a  day  or  two— I  know  not 
how  he  knew  that." 

"I  do-,  but  I  scarcely  share  his  confidence.  Go 
soon." 

"  I  shall  go  at  dawn  to-morrow." 

"  No  ;  go  to-day— this  evening." 

"I  will.  Monsieur  will  pardon  me  if  I  ask  if 
madame,  monsieur's  daughter,  is  well  and  safe? 
There  are  few  who  have  been  kind  to  me,  and — 

"My  child  is  well,"  said  the  marquis,  "and  in  Nor 
mandy  ;  but  if  safe  or  not,  who  can  say,  while  these 
wolves  destroy  women  and  children  ?  Safe  !  I  would 
give  my  soul  to  be  sure  of  that."  His  face  showed 
the  transient  emotion  he  felt;  and  suddenly,  as  if 
annoyed  at  his  own  weakness,  he  drew  himself  up  and 
said  abruptly  :  "  Go— and  go  quickly  !  I  shall  leave 
at  once — 

At  this  moment  the  bell  rang  violently. 

"  The  devil !  "  cried  the  marquis.  "  Go  and  see,  and 
do  not  shut  the  inner  door ;  I  must  hear."  With  this 
he  entered  the  pistol-gallery  and  waited.  Francois 
obeyed,  and,  with  the  sheathed  rapier  still  in  his  hand, 
crossed  the  hall.  Again  the  bell  rang. 

"  He  is  in  a  mischief  of  a  hurry.     No  noise,  Toto  !  " 

As  he  opened  the  outer  door,  the  man  of  the  warped 
face  broke  in,  and,  passing  him  at  once,  walked 


122      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

across  the  little  reception-room  and  into  the  great  hall 
beyond.  Again  his  height  and  massive  build  struck 
the  fencing-master. 

"Where  is  Gainel,  citizen?— and  no  lies  to  me! 
Where  is  Gamel,  I  say  ? " 

"  He  has  gone  away.  Why,  I  do  not  know.  Will 
the  citizen  search  his  rooms  ? " 

"  Search !  Not  I.  I  will  call  the  municipals. 
What  are  those  rooms  over  there  ?  And  arms  !  Why 
have  they  not  been  sent  to  the  committee  for  our 
patriot  children  on  the  frontier?" 

"  Perhaps  Citizen  Amar  would  kindly  inspect  them, 
and  then,  if  required,  we  can  send  them.  Many  have 
been  already  sent.  Behold,  citizen,  a  war-club  of 
Ashantee,  a  matchlock,  a  headsman's  sword.  Purlieu! 
the  guillotine  is  better." 

"  I  see,  citizen  ;  I  see.  But  now  of  Gamel.  He  was 
to  be  here  to-day,  I  hear.  I  will  return  presently  with 
the  officers  ;  and,  friend  citizen,  it  will  be  well  for  thee 
to  assist,  and  heartily.  This  Gamel  was  in  some  plot 
to  save  the  Citizen  Capet.  Like  master,  like  man. 
Have  ready  the  lists  of  those  aristocrats  who  fence 
here  in  the  morning.  Thou  canst  save  thy  head  by 
making  a  clean  breast  of  it.  I  shall  return  in  half 
an  hour.  Have  everything  ready." 

At  this  the  dreaded  Jacobin,  having  looked  over 
the  arms  and  duly  impressed  the  fencing-master, 
moved  toward  the  door  of  exit.  Should  Amar  leave 
the  room,  Francois  felt  that  his  own  fate  was  certain. 
He  had  been  too  much  with  Gamel.  Less  things 
every  day  cost  the  heads  of  men.  There  was  death  or 
life  in  the  next  five  minutes.  Francois  was  not  one  to 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FKANgOIS  123 

hesitate.  Preceding  the  Jacobin,  he  quietly  set  his 
back  to  the  door,  and,  locking  it,  pnt  the  key  in  his 
pocket.  This  action  was  so  dexterous  and  swift  that 
for  a  moment  the  Jacobin  did  not  perceive  that  he 
was  trapped.  He  was  thinking  if  there  was  anything 
more  to  be  said.  He  looked  up.  "  Well,  open  the 
door,  citizen."  As  he  spoke,  the  two  strangest  faces 
in  Paris  were  set  over  against  each  other.  Here  was 
comedy,  with  long  lean  features,  twinkling  eyes  above, 
and  below  the  good  humor  of  a  capacious  mouth  set 
between  preposterous  ears.  And  there  was  tragedy, 
strong  of  jaw,  long  hair  lying  flat  in  black,  leech-like 
flakes  on  a  too  prominent  brow,  and  small  eyes,  deep- 
set,  restless,  threatening,  seen  like  those  of  a  wolf  in 
cave  shelters— a  face  no  man  trusted,  a  face  on  which 
all  expressions  grew  into  deformity ;  not  a  mere  beast ; 
a  terribly  intelligent  bigot  of  the  new  creed,  colossal, 
alert,  unsparing,  fearless,  full  of  vanity. 

When  the  citizen  commissioner  said,  "  Open,"  Fran 
cois  replied : 

"  Not  just  yet,  citizen." 

"  What  is  this  ? "  shouted  Amar.  "  Open,  I  say,  in 
the  name  of  the  law  !  " 

11  Not  I."  And  Francois,  with  a  quick  motion,  threw 
off  the  sheath  of  the  rapier.  It  fell  with  a  great  clat 
ter  on  the  far  side  of  the  room. 

"  Open,  I  say  !  " 

At  this  moment  Ste.  Luce  came  across  the  hall. 

"What  the  deuce  is  all  this,  Francois?" 

Amar  turned  his  square  shoulders,  and  looked  at 
the  marquis. 

"I    presume   thee,  too,  to   be   one   of  this   rascal 


124  THE   ADVENTUEES  OF   FEANgOIS 

GamePs  band.  If  thou  dost  think  I,  Pierre  Amar, 
am  afraid  of  thee,  thou  art  going  to  find  out  thy  mis 
take.  What  is  thy  name  ? " 

11  Go  to  the  devil !  "  cried  the  marquis.  The  Jacobin 
darted  toward  the  window ;  but  Francois  was  too  quick 
for  him,  and  instantly  had  him  by  the  collar,  the  point 
of  the  rapier  touching  his  back.  "  Move  a  step,  and 
thou  art  a  dead  man."  The  face,  crooked  with  pas 
sion,  half  turned  over  the  shoulder. 

"  Misery !  What  a  beauty !  Didst  thou  think  I 
valued  my  head  so  little  as  to  trust  thee,  scum  of  the 
devil's  dish-water  ? "  For  some  reason  this  huge  ani 
mal  filled  Francois  with  rage,  and  he  poured  out  a 
flood  of  the  abusive  slang  of  the  Cite  as  the  marquis 
came  up. 

"  Drop  that  window-curtain  !  "  said  the  thief.  "  And 
now,  what  to  do,  monsieur  ? " 

The  captured  man  showed  the  utmost  courage,  and 
no  small  lack  of  wisdom.  "  Dog  of  an  aristocrat !  I 
know  thee.  It  was  thou  didst  kill  Jean  Coutier,  last 
month.  I  saw  thee,  coward !  We  knew  not  thy 
name.  Now  we  shall  take  pay  for  that  murder." 

The  marquis  grew  white  to  the  eyes,  with  a  certain 
twitching  of  the  lips  to  be  seen  as  Francois  again 
asked : 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  him  ?     Shall  we  tie  him  ? " 

"  No  ;  kill  him.  What !  you  will  not  ?  Give  me  your 
rapier.  'T  is  but  one  wolf  less." 

Francois  was  more  than  unwilling.  The  intense 
hatred  of  the  noble  for  the  Jacobin  he  did  not  share ; 
indeed,  he  liked  the  man's  fearlessness,  but,  neverthe 
less,  meant  to  provide  for  his  own  security.  His  con- 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF  FEANgOIS  125 

science,  such  as  it  was,  refused  to  sanction  cold-blooded 
murder. 

"  I  cannot.  Go  away !  I  will  take  care  of  this 
rascal." 

"  There  is  no  time  to  lose,"  said  the  marquis. 
"Kill  the  brute." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Francois. 

"Thou  art  coward  enough  to  kill  a  man  in  cold 
blood !  "  cried  Amar.  "  This  is  the  fine  honor  you 
talk  of.  Better  go.  All  thy  kind  are  running ;  but, 
soon  or  late,  the  guillotine  will  get  thy  hog-head,  as  it 
did  thy  Jew-nosed  king's." 

"  The  face  and  the  tongue  arc  well  matched,"  said 
Ste.  Luce,  quietly.  "  It  will  take  a  good  ten  minutes 
to  tie  and  gag  him.  You  will  not  kill  him?  Then 
give  the  fellow  a  blade,  and — I  will  see  to  the  rest. 
Are  you  man  enough  to  take  my  offer?  Quick, 
now !  " 

"  Try  me.     I  am  no  weakling,  like  poor  Coutier." 

"Find  him  a  blade,  Francois.  I  will  watch  him. 
Be  quick ! "  He  took  the  rapier,  and  stood  by  the 
motionless  figure,  whose  uneasy  eyes  followed  the 
thief  as  he  went  and  came  again. 

"  The  blades  are  of  a  length,  Francois  ?  Yes.  Lock 
the  door.  Ah,  it  is  done.  Good  !  Now,  keep  an  eye 
on  him,  Francois.  Take  care  of  yourself  if  he  has  the 
luck  to  kill  me.  However,  that  is  unlikely.  Ah,  you 
have  a  sword,  Francois." 

"  The  citizen  talks  a  good  deal,"  said  Amar,  trying 
his  blade  on  the  floor. 

"Yes,"  said  the  marquis,  negligently  untying  his 
cravat.  "It  is  so  rare,  in  these  democratic  days, 


126      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

that  one  has  a  chance  to  talk  with  one  of  you  gen 
tlemen." 

"  Bah  !  "  cried  the  Jacobin,  "  we  shall  see  presently." 
As  he  spoke,  he  laid  his  sword  on  a  chair  and  began 
to  strip.  As  he  took  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  he 
folded  them  with  care,  and  laid  them  neatly  on  a 
bench. 

The  marquis  also  stripped  to  his  waistcoat,  but  it 
was  with  more  haste.  He  threw  his  coat  to  Francois, 
and  took  his  place  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  where 
he  waited  until  his  slower  antagonist,  in  shirt  and 
breeches,  came  forward  to  meet  him.  Both  believed 
it  to  be  a  duel  to  the  death,  but  neither  face  showed 
to  Francois  any  sign  of  anxiety.  The  Jacobin  said : 

"  The  light  is  in  thine  eyes,  citizen.  If  we  were  to 
move  so  as  to  engage  across  the  room—" 

"  It  is  of  no  moment,"  returned  the  marquis.  u  Are 
you  ready  ? " 

"  Yes." 

Francois  saw  no  better  method  of  disposing  of  an 
awkward  business.  Nevertheless,  he  was  uncomfort 
able.  "What  if  this  devil  should  kill  the  marquis?" 
He  cried,  "  On  guard,  messieurs !  "  and  stepped  aside. 

The  marquis  saluted  with  grave  courtesy ;  but  the 
Jacobin,  obeying  the  fashion  of  the  schools  of  fence, 
went  through  the  formula  of  appearing  to  draw  the 
sword,  and  certain  other  conventional  motions  sup 
posed  to  be  exacted  by  etiquette.  The  marquis  smiled 
as  Amar  led  off  in  this  ceremonious  fashion.  These 
preliminaries  of  the  salle  d'armes  were  usually  omitted 
or  curtailed  in  serious  combats.  The  seigneur, 
amused,  and  following  Amar's  lead,  went  through  the 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  127 

whole  performance.  Meanwhile  Francois  looked  the 
two  men  over,  and  was  not  ill  pleased.  This  heavy  fel 
low  should  prove  no  match  for  a  practised  duelist  like 
Ste.  Luce.  He  was  soon  undeceived. 

Both  men  were  plainly  enough  masters  of  their 
weapon,  and  for  at  least  two  minutes  there  was  no 
advantage.  Then  Ste.  Luce  was  touched  in  the  left 
shoulder,  and  a  distorted  grimace  of  satisfaction  ran 
over  the  face  of  the  Jacobin.  The  marquis  became 
more  careful,  and  a  minute  or  two  later  Frangois  saw 
with  pleasure  that  Amar  was  breathing  a  trifle  hard. 
He  had  half  a  mind  to  cry  :  "  Wait !  wait !  He  is 
feeling  the  strain."  He  held  his  peace,  and,  with  Toto, 
looked  on  in  silence.  The  marquis  knew  his  business 
well,  and  noted  the  quickening  chest  movements  of 
his  adversary.  He  began  to  smile,  and  to  make  a 
series  of  inconceivably  quick  lunges.  Now  and  then 
the  point  of  either  blade  struck  fair  on  the  convex 
steel  shell-like  guard  which  protected  the  hand. 
When  this  chanced,  a  clear,  sweet  note  as  of  a  bell 
rang  through  the  great  hall.  The  Jacobin  held  his 
own,  and  Francois,  despite  his  anxiety,  saw  with  the 
satisfaction  of  a  master  how  lightly  each  rapier  lay  in 
the  grasp  of  the  duelist,  and  how  dexterously  the  fin 
gers  alone  were  used  to  guide  the  blades. 

Of  a  sudden  the  strange  face  was  jerked  as  it  were 
to  left,  and  a  savage  lunge  in  tierce  came  perilously 
near  to  ending  the  affair.  Ste.  Luce  threw  himself 
back  with  the  quickness  of  a  boy.  The  point  barely 
touched  him.  "St.  Gris ! "  he  called  out  gaily. 
"  That  was  well  meant.  Now  take  care  !  " 

"  By  St.  Denis !  't  is  a  master,"  muttered  Francois. 


128      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

The  marquis  seemed  of  a  sudden  to  have  let  loose 
a  reserve  of  unlooked-for  power.  He  was  here  and 
there  about  the  massive  and  by  no  means  unready 
bulk  of  Amar,  swift  and  beautifully  graceful. 

Then  of  a  sudden  the  marquis's  blade  went  out  as 
quick  as  lightning,  and  just  at  the  limit  of  a  nearly 
futile  thrust  caught  Amar  over  the  right  eye.  "  Dame! 
I  missed  those  lanterns  of  hell !  " 

The  Jacobin  brushed  away  the  blood  which,  run 
ning  down  his  face,  made  his  right  eye  useless  for  the 
time. 

The  marquis  fell  back,  and  dropped  his  point. 
"  The  deuce  !  The  man  cannot  see.  Tie  a  handker 
chief  around  hi§  head." 

The  Jacobin  was  not  sorry  to  have  time  to  breathe. 

"  Thou  art  more  than  fair,  citizen,"  said  Amar,  get 
ting  his  breath. 

"Thanks,"  returned  the  marquis,  coldly.  "Make 
haste,  Francois." 

Francois  took  up  a  lace  handkerchief  which  lay  be 
side  Ste.  Luce's  coat  on  the  seat  where  he  had  cast  his 
clothes.  While  Francois  bound  the  handkerchief 
around  the  head  so  as  to  stop  the  flow  of  blood,  Amar 
turned  to  his  foe. 

"  Citizen,"  said  the  Jacobin,  "  thou  hast  been  a  gal 
lant  man  in  this  matter.  My  life  was  thine  to  take. 
Let  it  end  here.  Thou  art  a  brave  man  and  a  good 
blade." 

Ste.  Luce  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  of 
amused  curiosity. 

"  What  else  ? " 

"I  will  not  have  thee  pursued — on  my  honor." 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANQOIS  129 

"  Tie  it  firmly,  Francois.  You  have  just  heard,  my 
Francois,  of  the  last  Parisian  novelty — a  Jacobin's 
honor !  Be  so  good  as  to  hurry,  Francois." 

Had  the  stern  Jacobin  felt  some  sudden  impulse  of 
pity  or  respect?  In  all  his  after  days  he  was  un 
sparing,  and  certainly  it  was  not  fear  which  now 
moved  him. 

"  As  pleases  thee,"  he  said  simply.  Ste.  Luce  made 
no  answer.  Again  their  blades  met.  And  now  the 
marquis  changed  his  game,  facing  his  foe  steadily, 
while  Francois  gazed  in  admiration.  Ste.  Luce's  rapier 
was  like  a  lizard's  movements  for  quickness.  Twice 
he  touched  the  man's  chest,  and  by  degrees  drove  him 
back,  panting,  until  he  was  against  the  door.  Sud 
denly,  seeming  to  recover  strength,  the  Jacobin  lunged 
in  quarte,  and  would  have  caught  the  marquis  fair  in 
the  breast-bone  had  he  not  thrown  himself  backward 
as  he  felt  the  prick.  Instantly  he  struck  the  blade 
aside  with  his  open  left  hand,  and,  as  it  went  by  his 
left  side,  drove  his  rapier  savagely  through  Amar's 
right  lung  and  into  the  panel  of  the  door.  It  was 
over.  Not  ten  minutes  had  passed. 

"T)ame!"  he  cried,  withdrawing  his  rapier,  and  re 
treating  a  pace  or  two.  "  He  was  worth  fighting." 

The  Jacobin's  face  moved  convulsively.  He 
coughed,  spattering  blood  about  him.  His  right  arm 
moved  in  quick  jerks.  His  sword  dropped,  and  stuck 
upright  in  the  floor,  quivering. 

"  Dog  of  an  aristocrat !  "  he  cried.  His  distorted 
face  twitched ;  he  staggered  to  left,  to  right,  and  at 
last  tumbled  in  a  heap,  a  massive  figure,  of  a  sudden 
inert  and  harmless. 


130  THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FRANCOIS 

The  marquis  stood  still  and  looked  down  at  his  foe. 

"  What  the  deuce  to  do  with  him  ? "  said  Francois. 

"  Take  his  head,  and  drag  him  into  your  room.  We 
can  talk  then." 

"Will  monsieur  take  his  feet?" 

"  What !  I  touch  the  dog  ?     No,  not  I." 

Francois  did  not  like  it ;  but  making  no  reply,  he 
dragged  the  Jacobin's  helpless  bulk  after  him,  and, 
once  in  his  room,  pulled  the  mattress  off  the  bed,  and 
without  roughness  drew  the  man  upon  it. 

Amar  opened  his  eyes,  and  tried  to  speak.  He 
could  not ;  the  flow  of  blood  choked  him.  He  shook 
his  fist  at  Ste.  Luce. 

"  Cursed  brute,"  cried  Francois,  "  be  still !  He  will 
begin  to  howl  presently.  The  sons  of  Satan  are  im 
mortal." 

"  We  must  gag  him,  Francois." 

"But  he  will  die;  he  will  choke.  See  how  ne 
breathes — how  hard." 

"  Diable!  it  is  he  or  I.  Would  he  spare  me,  do  you 
think?  Don't  talk  nonsense.  Do  as  I  tell  you." 

Francois  took  up  a  towel.  As  he  approached, 
Amar  looked  up  at  him.  There  was  no  plea  in  his 
savage  face. 

"Go  on.  What  the  deuce  are  you  waiting  for?" 
said  Ste.  Luce. 

"  I  cannot  do  it,"  said  Francois.     "  End  it  yourself." 

"What!  I?  Strangle  a  dog !  I!  .Dame!  Let  us 
go.  What  a  fool  you  are  !  " 

"  Better  go  singly,  then,"  said  the  thief.  He  had  no 
mind  to  increase  his  own  risks  by  the  dangerous  so 
ciety  of  the  nobleman. 


•HE  STAGGERED  TO  LEFT,  TO  KIGHT,  AND  AT  LAST  TUMBLED  IX  A 
HEAP." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF   FRANQOIS  133 

Amar  was  silent.  The  handkerchief  had  fallen 
from  his  head,  but  the  wound  bled  no  longer. 

"What  shall  I  do  with  the  handkerchief,  mon 
sieur  ? " 

"  Do  ?  Burn  it.  Faugh  !  "  Francois  cast  it  on 
the  still  glowing  embers.  "Now  my  clothes  and  my 
cloak,"  said  Ste.  Luce  ;  "  and  do  not  lose  any  time  over 
that  animal." 

He  washed  off  the  little  blood  on  his  clothes,  and 
dressed  in  haste,  saying :  "  Lucky  that  his  point  struck 
on  my  breast-bone.  'T  is  of  no  moment.  The  fellow 
has  left  me  a  remembrance.  I  am  sorry  I  did  not 
have  the  luck  to  kill  him.  Good-by,  Francois.  May 
we  meet  in  better  days."  He  was  gone. 

Francois  locked  the  door  after  him,  and  went  back 
to  his  room.  He  sat  down  on  the  floor  beside  the 
mattress. 

"  Now  listen,  Master  Amar.  Canst  thou  hear  me  ? 
Ah,  yes.  Well,  I  have  saved  thy  life.  Oh,  thou  wilt 
get  well, — more  's  the  pity  ! — and  do  some  mischief 
yet.  Now  if  I  should  kill  thee  I  would  be  pretty 
safe.  If  I  go  away,  and  send  thee  a  doctor,  I  am  a 
lost  man.  What  is  that  thou  art  sajdng?  Ah!" 
and  he  leaned  down  to  hear  the  broken  whisper.  "  So 
thou  wilt  have  my  head  chopped  off.  Thou  art  less 
afraid  than  I  would  be,  were  I  thee.  What  shall  we 
do,  Toto  ? "  and  he  laughed ;  somehow  the  situation 
had  for  him  its  humorous  side. 

"  I  can't  murder  a  man,"  he  said.  "  If  ever  I  kill  a 
man,  I  trust  it  may  be  one  who  hath  not  thy  eyes  and 
thy  one-sided  grin.  To  be  haunted  by  a  ghost  like 
thee !  The  deuce !  Not  1 !  Sac  a  papier!  I  will 


134  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANQOIS 

take  my  chance."  He  sat  down,  and  wrote  a  short 
note  to  a  surgeon  on  the  farther  side  of  Paris,  one 
whom  he  knew  to  have  been  much  commended  to  his 
pupils  by  Gamel. 

"  My  unforgiving  friend,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  lock  thee 
in.  Thou  art  too  weak  to  move,  and  to  try  will  cause 
thee  to  bleed.  This  note  will  get  thee  a  surgeon  in 
about  six  hours.  I  must  leave  thee.  Be  quiet,  and  be 
good.  Here  is  a  flask  of  eau-de-vie.  Art  still  of  a 
mind  to  give  thy  preserver  to  the  guillotine  ?"  The 
grim  head  nodded  as  the  red  froth  leaked  out  over 
the  lips.  "  l  Yes,  yes/  thou  sayest.  Thou  art  in  a  fine 
state  of  penitence.  I  hope  we  have  seen  the  last  of 
each  other.  One  more  chance.  Promise  me  not  to  be 
my  enemy.  I  will  trust  thee.  Come,  now.1' 

But  the  Jacobin  was  past  speech.  As  Francois 
knelt  beside  him,  he  beckoned  feebly. 

"What  is  it?"  As  he  bent  lower,  a  grim  smile 
went  over  the  one  movable  side  of  Amar's  face,  and, 
raising  a  feeble  hand,  he  drew  it  across  Francois's 
neck. 

"  Mon  Dieu!  "  cried  he,  recoiling,  "  thou  art  ripe  for 
hell.  Adieu,  my  unforgiving  friend  ;  and  as  thou  hast 
no  God,  au  (liable,  and  may  St.  Satan  look  after  thee — 
for  love  of  thy  looks.  Come,  doggie !  "  He  put  his 
pistols  in  the  back  of  his  belt,  set  his  rapier  in  the 
belt-catch,  threw  his  cloak  over  all,  and  picked  up  his 
bag  and  knapsack.  He  took  one  last  look  at  Amar, 
and  saying,  "By-by,  my  angel,"  left  him,  locking 
both  doors  as  he  went  out. 

Francois  passed  into  the  street,  followed  by  the 
black  poodle.  In  the  Rue  St.  Honore  he  paid  the 


THE   ADVENTURES   OP   FRANCOIS  135 

boy  of  a  butcher  with  whom  Gamel  dealt  to  take  his 
note  when  the  midday  meal  should  be  over.  And  thus 
having  eased  his  conscience  and  regulated  the  busi 
ness  of  life,  he  set  out  to  put  between  him  and  the 
Jacobin  as  many  miles  as  his  long  legs  could  cover. 


XIV 


Francois  escapes  from  Paris  and  goes  in  search  of  a 
father.  He  meets  a  man  who  has  a  wart  on  his  nose, 
and  who  'because  of  this  is  unlucky. 

E  had  been  fortunate.  Not  more  than  an 
hour  and  a  quarter  had  gone  by  since 
Amar's  entrance,  and  the  mid-hour  of 
breakfast  had  probably  secured  them 
from  intrusion  of  foe  or  friend.  Fran- 
c.ois,  who  knew  Paris  as  few  men  did,  strode  on  through 
narrow  streets  and  the  dimly  lighted  passages  which 
afforded  opportunity  to  avoid  the  busier  haunts  of 
men.  The  barriers  were  carelessly  guarded,  and  he 
passed  unmolested  into  the  country.  Once  outside  of 
the  city,  he  took  the  highroad  to  Evreux,  down  the 
Seine,  simply  because  the  passport  of  Jean  Franyois, 
juggler,  pointed  to  Normandy  as  his  destination. 
Naturally  a  man  of  fore  thinking  sense,  he  had  assumed 
that  the  village  whence  came  Despard  should  be  the 
home  of  that  father  who  was  ill.  He  knew  from  his 
former  partner  enough  of  the  village  to  answer  ques 
tions.  It  lay  westward  of  Evreux.  France  was  then 
less  full  of  spies  and  less  suspicious  than  it  became  in 
the  Terror ;  and  until  he  arrived  at  a  small  town  on  the 

13G 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  137 

north  bank  of  the  Seine,  not  far  from  Poissy,  he  had 
no  trouble.  He  saw  no  couriers.  The  post  went  only 
once  a  week.  He  was  safe,  and,  to  tell  the  truth, 
merry  and  well  pleased  again  to  wander.  His  money 
was  sewed  in  his  garments.  He  wore  his  rapier  under 
his  cloak,  but  with  it  he  carried  the  conjurer's  thin, 
supple  blade,  which,  when  he  feigned  to  swallow  it,  a 
spring  caused  to  coil  into  the  large  basket-hilt.  His 
pistols  were  strapped  behind  him,  and  on  his  back  he 
carried  his  knapsack  and  small  bag  of  juggling  ap 
paratus.  Thus,  clad  in  sober  gray,  with  the  tricolor 
on  his  red  cap  and  a  like  decoration  on  the  poodle's 
collar,  he  was  surely  a  quaint  enough  figure.  Long, 
well  built,  and  wiry,  laughing  large  between  his  two 
wing-like  ears,  he  held  his  way  along  the  highroad  on 
the  bank  of  the  winding  Seine. 

He  avoided  towns  and  people,  camped  in  the  woods, 
juggled  and  told  fortunes  at  farm-houses  for  a  dinner, 
and,  as  I  have  said,  had  no  trouble  until  he  came  at 
midday  to  the  hamlet  of  lie  Rouge.  Here,  being 
tired,  and  Toto  footsore,  he  thought  he  might  venture 
to  halt  and  sleep  at  the  inn. 

It  was  a  little  gray  French  town  in  the  noonday 
quiet,  scarce  a  soul  in  sight,  and  a  warmer  sun  than 
January  usually  affords  on  street  and  steaming  roof- 
tiles.  Hostile  dogs,  appearing,  seemed  to  consider 
Toto  a  Royalist.  Francois  tucked  him  under  his  arm, 
and  carelessly  entered  the  stone-paved  tap-room  of 
the  "Hen  with  Two  Heads."  He  repented  too  late. 
The  room  was  half  full.  One  of  the  many  commis 
sioners  who  afterward  swarmed  through  France  was 
engaged  with  the  mayor  of  the  commune.  Francois, 


138      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

putting  on  an  air  of  humility,  sought  out  the  inn 
keeper,  and  asked  meekly  to  have  a  room.  As  he  did 
so,  a  fat  man  in  the  red  bonnet  of  the  Jacobins  called 
out  from  the  table  where  he  sat,  "  Come  here  !  " 

Franc,  ois  said,  "  Yes,  citizen,"  and  stood  at  the  table 
where  this  truculent  person  was  seated. 

He  was  sharply  questioned,  and  his  papers  and 
baggage  were  overhauled  with  small  ceremony, 
while,  apparently  at  his  ease,  he  liberally  distributed 
smiles  and  the  kindly  glances  of  large  blue  eyes.  At 
last  he  was  asked  why  he  carried  a  sword ;  it  was 
against  the  law.  He  made  answer  that  he  carried  two 
tools  of  his  trade — would  the  citizen  see  ?  And  when 
he  had  swallowed  two  feet  of  his  juggler's  blade,  to 
the  wonder  of  the  audience,  nothing  further  was  said 
of  the  rapier.  At  last,  seeing  that  the  commissioner 
still  hesitated,  he  told,  with  great  show  of  frankness, 
whither  he  was  going,  and  named  Despard  as  one  who 
would  answer  for  him.  The  mention  of  this  name 
seemed  to  annoy  the  questioner,  who  said  Despard 
was  a  busy  fellow,  and  was  stirring  up  the  citizens  at 
Musillon.  He,  Gregoire,  was  on  his  way  to  see  after 
him.  He  should  like  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  that 
sick  father,  and,  after  all,  Francois  might  be  an  emigre. 
Hemustwait,  andgo  with  the  commissioner  to  Musillon. 

Francois  smiled  his  best;  and,  when  the  citizen 
commissioner  had  done  with  business,  might  he  amuse 
him  with  a  little  juggling?  Citizen  Gregoire  would 
see ;  let  him  sit  yonder  and  wait.  After  a  few  min 
utes  the  great  man's  breakfast  was  set  before  him ;  the 
room  was  cleared,  and  the  citizen  ate,  while  Francois 
looked  him  over. 


UKLD  UIS    WAY  ALONG   T1IE   11IGHKOAD 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  141 

Gregoire  was  a  short,  stout  man  with  long  hair,  a 
face  round,  red,  chubby,  and  made  expressionless  by 
a  button-nose,  which  was  decorated  with  a  large 
rugose  wart.  The  meal  being  over,  he  went  out, 
leaving  a  soldier  at  the  door,  and  taking  no  kind  of 
note  of  his  prisoner.  Francois  sat  still.  He  was 
patient,  but  the  afternoon  was  long.  At  dusk  Citizen 
Gregoire  reappeared,  and,  as  Francois  noted,  was  a 
little  more  amiable  by  reason  of  the  vinous  hospitality 
of  the  mayor.  He  sat  down,  and  ordered  dinner. 
When  it  came,  Francois  said  tranquilly : 

"  Citizen  Commissioner  Gregoire,  wouldst  thou 
kindly  consider  the  state  of  my  stomach  ?  Swallow 
ing  of  swords  sharpens  the  appetite." 

The  commissioner  looked  up  from  his  meal.  He 
was  in  the  good-humored  stage  of  drunkenness. 

"  Come  and  eat,"  he  said,  laughing. 

"  He  hath  the  benevolence  of  the  bottle,"  thought 
Francois.  "  Let  us  amuse  him." 

The  commissioner  took  off  his  red  bonnet,  poured 
out  a  glass  of  wine,  looked  at  a  paper  or  two  in  his 
hand-bag,  and  set  it  on  a  seat  near  by,  while  the 
juggler  humbly  accepted  the  proffered  place.  Then 
the  poodle  was  made  to  howl  at  the  name  of  Citizen 
Capet,  and  to  bark  joyously  at  the  mention  of  Jacobins. 
Francois  told  stories,  played  tricks,  and  drank  freely. 
The  commissioner  drank  yet  more  freely.  Francois 
proposed  to  make  a  punch,— a  juggler's  punch,  — and 
did  make  a  drink  of  uncommon  vigor.  About  nine 
the  commissioner  began  to  nod,  and  Francois,  who 
had  been  closely  studying  his  face,  presently  saw  him 
drop  into  a  deep  slumber.  The  open  bag  looked 


142      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

tempting.  He  swiftly  slipped  a  dexterous  hand  into 
its  contents,  and  feeling  a  wallet  of  coin,  transferred 
it  to  his  own  pocket.  The  temptation  had  been  great, 
the  yielding  to  it  imprudent ;  but  there  was  no  one  else 
about,  except  the  careless  guard  outside  the  door. 
Francois  concluded  to  replace  the  wallet ;  but  at  this 
moment  the  great  Gregoire  of  the  committee  woke  up. 
"  That  was  funny,"  he  said.  "  J  did  not  quite  catch 
the  end  of  it." 

"No,"  said  Francois-  "the  citizen  slept  a  little." 

Gregoire  became  angry. 

"I — I  asleep?  I  am  on  dut}T.  I  never  sleep  on 
duty."  The  citizen  was  very  drunk.  He  got  up,  and, 
staggering,  set  a  foot  on  Toto's  tail.  The  poodle 
yelped,  and  the  Jacobin  kicked  him.  "  Sacree  bete! " 
The  poodle,  unaccustomed  to  outrage,  retorted  by  a 
nip  at  a  fat  calf.  Then  the  great  man  asserted  him 
self. 

"  Hallo,  there  !  Curse  you  and  your  dog !  Land 
lord  !  landlord  !  "  The  host  came  in  haste,  and  two 
soldiers.  "  Got  a  safe  place  ?  Lock  up  this  sc-scoun- 
drel,  and  k-kill  his  dog !  "  The  landlord  kindly  sug 
gested  a  disused  wine-cellar.  "  Now,  no  delay.  I'm 
Gregoire.  Lock  him  up  !  "  Having  disposed  of  the 
juggler,  the  citizen  contrived  to  get  out  of  the  room 
and  to  bed  with  loss  of  dignity  and  balance. 

A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  set  Francois  in  a  chilly 
cellar,  the  poodle  at  his  heels;  for  no  one  took  seri 
ously  the  order  to  kill  Toto.  Of  the  two  soldiers,  one, 
who  was  young  and  much  amused,  brought  an  old 
blanket,  and  a  lantern  with  a  lighted  candle  set  within 
it.  Yes,  the  prisoner  could  have  his  knapsack  and 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF   FRANgOIS  143 

bag— there  were  no  orders;  but  he  must  give  up  his 
sword.  It  was  so  dark  that  when  Francois  promptly 
surrendered  his  juggler's  blade  it  seemed  to  satisfy 
the  soldiers :  for  who  could  dream  that  a  man  would 
carry  two  swords  ?  With  a  laugh  and  a  jest,  Frangois 
bade  them  to  wake  him  early.  He  called  to  the  young 
recruit,  as  they  were  leaving,  that  he  would  like  to 
have  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  gave  him  sufficient  small 
change  to  insure  also  a  bottle  for  these  good-humored 
jailers. 

They  took  the  whole  affair  as  somewhat  of  a  prac 
tical  joke.  All  would  be  well  in  the  morning. 
When  Gregoire  was  drunk  he  arrested  everybody. 
The  young  soldier  would  fetch  the  wine  in  an  hour. 
Good  night. 

Francois  was  alone  and  with  leisure  to  consider  the 
situation. 

"  Attention,  Toto ! "  he  said.  This  putting  of 
thought  into  an  outspoken  soliloquy,  with  the  judicial 
silence  of  the  poodle  to  aid  him,  was  probably  a  real 
assistance ;  for  to  think  aloud  formulates  conditions 
and  conclusions  in  a  way  useful  to  one  untrained  to 
reason.  To  read  one's  own  mind,  and  to  hear  one's 
own  mind,  are  very  different  things. 

(  Toto,"  he  said,  "  we  are  in  a  bad  way.  Why  didst 
thou  bite  that  fat  beast's  calf  f  It  did  thee  no  good, 
thou  ill-tempered  brute.  ?T  is  not  good  diet ;  a  pound 
of  it  would  make  thee  drunk.  I  shall  have  to  whip 
thee,  little  beast  of  an  aristocrat,  if  thou  dost  take  to 
nipping  the  calves  of  the  republic." 

Toto  well  knew  that  he  was  being  scolded.  He 
leaped  up  and  licked  the  thief's  face. 


144      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

"Down,  Citizen  Toto !  Where  are  thy  manners? 
I  like  better  Citizen  Gregoire  drunk  than  Citizen 
Gregoire  sober.  How  about  my  poor  papa  ?  Oh,  but 
I  was  an  ass  to  name  Despard.  Didst  thou  observe 
that  the  commissioner's  eyebrows  meet  ?  And,  Toto, 
he  has  a  great  wart  on  his  nose.  'T  is  a  man  will 
fetch  ill  luck.  I  knew  a  thief  had  a  wart  on  his  nose, 
and  he  was  broken  on  the  wheel  at  Rouen.  Besides, 
there  was  the  wallet.  Toto,  attention !  Thou  dost 
wander.  It  is  all  the  doings  of  that  sacre  marquis.  A 
~bas  les  aristoerates!  Let  us  inspect  a  little."  Upon 
this  he  pried  about  every  corner,  tried  the  heavy  oaken 
door,  still  gaily  talking,  and  at  last  sat  on  an  empty 
cask  and  considered  the  grated  window  and  the 
limited  landscape  dimly  visible  between  its  four  iron 
rods.  The  end  of  a  woodpile,  about  four  feet  away, 
was  all  that  he  could  see.  This  woodpile  set  him  to 
thinking. 

An  hour  later  the  young  recruit  returned  with  the 
wine.  "I  came  to  see  if  thou  wert  safe,"  he  said. 
"Like  as  not  Gregoire  will  forget  all  about  thee  to 
morrow.  Wine  hath  a  short  memory." 

Francois  laughed.  "  Le  bon  Dieu  grant  it.  I  can 
tell  fortunes,  but  not  my  own."  And  should  he  tell  the 
citizen  soldier's  fortune  ?  With  much  laughter  it  was 
told,  and  the  gifts  of  fateful  time  were  showered  on 
the  soldier's  future  in  opulent  abundance.  He  would 
be  with  the  army  on  the  frontier  soon.  He  would 
marry — dame! — a  woman  rich  in  looks  and  lands.  He 
would  be  a  general  one  day.  And  this,  oddly  enough, 
came  true ;  for  he  became  a  general  of  division,  and 
was  killed  the  morning  after  at  Eylau.  Seeing  that 


THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FBANgOIS  145 

this  young  man  had  agreeable  fashions,  the  thief 
ventured  to  express  his  thanks. 

"Monsieur — "  he  began. 

"  Take  care  !  Mon  Dieit!  thou  must  not  say  that ; 
'  citizen,'  please.  The  messieurs  are  as  dead  as  the 
saints,  and  the  devil,  and  the  bon  Uieu,  and  the  rest." 

As  he  did  not  seem  displeased,  Francois  said : 

"  Oh,  thou  art  no  Jacobin.  Hast  a  l)e  to  thy 
name  ? " 

This  recruit's  manners  appeared  to  Francois  a  good 
deal  like  those  of  the  young  nobles  whom  he  had 
taught  to  fence. 

"  What  I  was  is  of  no  moment,"  replied  the  young 
fellow.  "  The  De's  are  as  dead  as  the  saints.  I  am 
a  soldier.  But,  pardon  me,  the  citizen  may  be  as  frank 
as  suits  his  appetite  for  peril.  I  have  had  my  belly 
ful." 

" Frank?  Dame!  why  not?  Up-stairs  I  was  a 
Jacobin ;  down  here  I  am  a  Royalist.  I  was  an  aide 
in  Gamel's  fencing-school,  and,  pardic!  I  came  away. 
Thou  canst  do  me  a  little  service." 

"Can  I  help  thee,  and  not  hurt  myself?  We— my 
people — are  grown  scarce  of  late.  I  am  the  last;  I 
take  no  risks." 

"  There  will  be  none.  Bring  me  a  little  steel  fork 
and  a  good  long  bit  of  twine." 

"  A  fork  !     What  for  ? "     He  had  a  lad's  curiosity. 

"  To  eat  with." 

"But  there  is  nothing  to  eat." 

"  Quite  true.  But  it  assists  one's  imagination ; 
and,  after  all,  there  may  be  to-morrow,  and  to  eat  with 
decency  a  fork  is  needed.  A  citizen  may  use  his  bare 


146      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

paws,  but  a  monsieur  may  not  use  the  fingers  of  equal 
ity.  Thou  wilt  observe  how  the  thought  of  these  tools 
of  luxury  reminds  one  of  messieurs  and  the  like." 

The  lad— he  was  hardly  over  twenty— laughed 
merrily.  "  Thou  art  a  delightful  companion.  Gamel 
— thou  didst  say  Gamel?" 

"  I  did,  monsieur.  Gamel  that  was  the  master  of 
arms  in  the  Rue  St.  Honore." 

"  My  poor  brother  used  to  fence  there.  By  St. 
Denis  !  thou  must  be  Francois  !  " 

"  I  am." 

"  Then  thou  shalt  have  the  tool  of  luxury.  But, 
good  heavens  !  take  care.  Thou  hast  a  tongue  which 
—  well,  I  have  learned  to  bridle  mine." 

"  My  tongue  never  got  me  into  trouble ;  like  my 
legs,  it  is  long,  and,  like  them,  it  has  got  me  out  of  a 
good  many  scrapes.  I  thank  thee  for  the  warning. 
One  knows  whom  to  talk  to.  I  can  be  silent.  Oh, 
you  may  laugh.  I  did  not  speak  for  a  day  after  I  first 
saw  that  juggler's  tool,  the  guillotine,  in  the  sun  on  the 
Place  de  la  Revolution.  Dieu!  behold  there  is  a  man 
that  talks  and  laughs ;  and,  presto,  pass  !  there  is  eter 
nal  silence." 

"Ame  de  fit.  Denis!  thou  art  not  gay,"  cried  the 
soldier. 

"  Tete  de  St.  Denis  were  better.  He  was  a  fellow 
for  these  times— a  saint  that  could  carry  his  head 
under  his  arm  when  it  was  chopped  off." 

The  young  recruit  laughed,  but  more  uneasily. 
Not  to  laugh  in  some  fashion  was  among  the  impos 
sibilities  of  life  when  this  face-quake  of  mirth  broke 
out  between  those  wing-like  ears. 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  147 

He  would  fetch  the  tools,  and,  in  fact,  did  so  in  a 
few  minutes.  Then  he  bade  Francois  good  night,  and 
went  away.  As  soon  as  he  had  gone,  Francois  retired 
to  a  corner  with  his  lantern  to  inspect  the  wallet. 
There  were  three  lonis,  a  few  sous,  and  no  more.  The 
risk  was  large,  the  profit  small.  In  an  inner  pocket 
was  a  thin,  folded  paper.  When  opened  it  seemed  to 
be  a  letter  in  due  form,  dated  a  month  before,  but 
never  sent.  It  was  addressed  to  Citizen  de  la  Vicom- 
terie  of  the  Great  Committee.  Francois  whistled.  It 
was  a  furious  attack  on  Robespierre  and  Couthon, 
and  an  effort  to  sum  up  the  strength  which  an  assault 
on  the  great  leaders  would  command  in  the  Conven 
tion — a  rash  document  for  those  days.  Clearly  the 
writer,  whose  full  signature  of  Pierre  Gregoire  was 
appended,  had  wisely  hesitated  to  send  it. 

"  It  seems  to  have  been  forgotten.  Was  he  drunk, 
Toto  ?  Surely  now  we  must  get  out  and  away.  'T  is 
a  letter  of  death ;  't  is  a  passport  worth  many  louis, 
Toto."  He  pulled  off  a  shoe,  folded  the  paper  neatly, 
and  pulling  up  a  tongue  of  leather  011  the  inside  sole, 
placed  the  letter  underneath,  and  put  on  the  shoe 
again.  He  took  the  louis,  threw  the  wallet  under  a 
cask,  and  waited. 

When  the  house  was  still  he  set  to  work.  He  had 
found  behind  a  barrel  a  long  staff  used  to  measure 
the  height  of  wine  in  casks.  On  the  end  of  this  he 
tied  securely,  crosswise,  the  steel  fork,  and  then  began 
to  inspect  the  thin  rods  of  the  window,  which  were  but 
ill  fitted  to  guard  a  man  of  resources. 

"Art  still  too  fat?"  he  said,  as  he  lifted  Toto  arid 
managed  to  squeeze  him  between  the  bars.  After  that 


148  THE   ADVENTURES   OP   FRANCOIS 

he  began  to  fish  with  his  stick  and  fork  for  a  small 
log  which  had  fallen  from  the  woodpile  and  was  just 
a  foot  or  two  out  of  reach.  Twice  he  had  it,  and  twice 
it  broke  loose,  but  now  Toto  understood,  and,  seizing 
the  log,  dragged  it  nearer.  At  last  Francois  had  the 
prize.  The  rest  was  easy.  He  set  the  log  between 
the  thin  bars,  and  threw  on  this  lever  all  the  power  of 
one  of  the  strongest  men  in  Paris.  In  place  of  break 
ing,  the  iron  rod  bent  and  drew  out  of  its  sockets.  A 
second  proved  as  easy,  and  at  last  the  window-space 
was  free.  It  seemed  large  enough.  He  concluded  to 
leave  his  bag;  but  the  knapsack  he  set  outside,  and 
also  his  weapons  and  the  conjuring-balls.  Next  he 
stripped  off  most  of  his  clothes,  and  laid  these  too  011 
the  far  side  of  the  window.  Finally  his  legs  were 
through,  and  his  hips.  But  when  it  came  to  the 
shoulders  he  was  in  trouble.  It  seemed  impossible. 
He  felt  the  poor  poodle  pulling  at  his  foot,  and  had 
hard  work  to  restrain  his  laughter.  "Dame!  would 
I  grin  at  Mere  Guillotine  ?  Who  knows  ?  How  to 
shrink?"  He  wriggled;  he  emptied  his  chest  of  air; 
he  turned  011  his  side ;  and,  leaving  some  rags  and  a 
good  bit  of  skin  on  the  way,  he  was  at  last  outside. 
Here,  having  reclothed  himself,  he  broke  up  the  wine- 
measurer  and  threw  the  fork  over  the  wall.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  was  on  the  highway,  and  running  lightly 
at  the  top  of  his  speed.  At  dawn  he  found  a  farm 
house  which  seemed  to  be  deserted— no  rare  thing  in 
those  days.  He  got  in  at  a  window,  and  stayed  for 
two  days,  without  other  food  than  the  crusts  he  had 
carried  from  the  cellar.  The  night  after,  weak  and 
hungry,  he  walked  till  dawn ;  and  being  now  a  good 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEANQOIS  149 

ten  leagues  from  that  terrible  commissioner,  he  ven 
tured  to  buy  a  good  dinner  and  to  get  himself  set  over 
the  Seine.  Somewhat  reassured,  he  asked  the  way  to 
Evreux,  and,  for  once  in  his  life  perplexed  and  thought 
ful,  went  along  without  a  word  to  Toto. 

He  had  been  three  weeks  on  the  way,  owing  to  his 
need  to  hide  or  to  make  wide  circuits  in  order  to  avoid 
the  larger  towns.  It  was  now  the  February  of  northern 
France,  and  there  was  sometimes  a  little  snow,  but 
more  often  a  drizzling  rain.  He  had  suffered  much 
from  cold ;  but  as  he  strode  along,  with  a  mind  more 
at  ease,  he  took  pleasure  in  the  sunshine.  A  night 
wind  from  the  north  had  dried  the  roads.  It  was  calm, 
cold  in  the  shadows,  deliciously  warm  on  the  sun-lit 
length  of  yellow  highway.  He  had  lost  time, — quite 
too  much,— but  he  still  hoped  to  reach  Musillon  be 
fore  that  man  with  the  wart  arrived.  If  so,  he  would 
see  Despard,  warn  him  as  to  Gregoire,  and,  with  this 
claim,  and  their  old  partnership,  on  which  he  counted 
less,  he  might  get  his  passport  altered,  and  lose  him 
self  somewhere.  If  he  had  to  remain  in  the  town,  he 
must  see,  or  be  presumed  to  have  seen,  that  sick 
father,  and  must  be  promptly  adopted  if  by  cruel  cir 
cumstances  he  became  unable  to  journey  far  enough 
from  Paris  to  feel  secure.  The  distorted  face  of  Amar 
haunted  him — the  man  who,  to  save  his  own  life, 
would  not  even  make  believe  to  forgive.  He  had  no 
power  within  him  to  explain  a  man  like  Amar ;  and 
because  the  Jacobin  was  to  him  incomprehensible,  he 
was  more  than  humanly  terrible.  What  possessed 
that  devil  of  a  marquis  to  turn  up  ?  And  was  he  now 
at  his  chateau?  And  why  had  Achille  Gamel  set 


150      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

down  Normandy  in  the  passport  ?  And  why  had  he 
himself  been  fool  enough  to  fill  up  the  vacant  place 
for  the  name  of  his  destination  with  that  of  the  only 
small  town  he  could  recall  in  that  locality?  He  had 
been  in  haste,  and  now  a  net  seemed  to  be  gathering 
about  him.  He  must  go  thither,  or  take  perilous 
chances.  He  was  moving  toward  a  fateful  hour. 

"  Toto,"  he  said,  "  let  us  laugh ;  for  I  like  not  the 
face  of  to-morrow." 


XV 


Hoic  Francois  finds  J)espard  and  lias  a  lesson  in  politics, 
and  of  wliat  came  of  it. 

[T  evening  lie  ventured  to  enter  an  inn 
at  Soluce.  A  good  bed  and  ample  diet 
restored  his  courage  ;  but  he  learned  that 
the  citizen  with  a  wart,  and  an  escort  of 
a  dozen  soldiers,  had  passed  the  day 
before,  on  their  way  to  Evreux.  Would  he  remain 
there,  this  friendly  commissioner?  No  one  knew. 
Evreux  was  Jacobin  to  the  core.  Then  he  thought  of 
the  marquis ;  it  was  well  to  be  informed. 

Yes ;  the  Citizen  Ste.  Luce  lived  beyond  Musillon. 
The  citizen  juggler  declared  that  he  had  once  been  in 
his  service,  but  now  that  all  men  were  equal,  he  could 
not  lower  the  dignity  of  an  equalized  nation  by  serving 
him  longer.  He  learned  that  the  chateau  of  the  mar 
quis  had  not  suffered,  nor  he,  as  he  was  never  known 
to  be  absent,  and  no  one  molested  him.  This  did 
not  surprise  Francois.  In  the  South,  at  an  earlier 
date,  the  peasants  had  burned  hundreds  of  chateaux, 
but  these  riots  had  been  mercilessly  put  down.  The 
Jacobins  meant  to  have  peace  in  France,  and  at  cost 
of  blood,  if  that  was  requisite.  To  have  peace  at 

151 


152      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

home  was  essential  to  the  success  of  national  defense 
on  the  frontier.  In  many  parts  of  France,  through 
out  the  whole  of  the  Terror,  very  many  large  land 
owners  were  undisturbed.  In  fact,  the  Terror,  and  its 
precedent  punishments,  fell  with  strange  irregularity 
on  the  provinces.  The  Dukes  de  Bethune-Charost,  de 
Luynes,  de  Nivernais,  and  others  who  had  not  been 
active  in  politics,  remained  unhurt  on  their  estates. 
For  the  emigres  was  reserved  a  bitter  hatred.  Nor  can 
we  wonder  at  this  result  of  the  vast  exodus  which 
took  place  from  '89  to  '91  —  "  I' Emigration  joy  euse,"  as  it 
was  called  by  those  who  carried  off  means  enough  to 
live  gay  lives  in  Brussels  wrhile  their  country  was  in 
the  convulsions  of  great  social  and  political  change. 

Francois  made  haste  to  leave  at  dawn,  and  by  night 
fall  was  close  to  the  town  of  Musillon.  He  found  a 
wood  road,  and  was  soon  deep  in  one  of  the  marquis's 
forests.  In  a  quiet  glade  among  rocks  he  put  his 
effects  in  security,  and,  charging  Toto  to  guard  them, 
set  out  to  inspect  the  town.  The  poodle  did  not  like 
it.  He  ran  back  and  forth,  whining. 

"Oh,  stop  that!"  cried  Francois.  "Go  back! 
Dost  thou  hear  ? " 

Toto  lay  down,  and  set  himself  to  secure  what  com 
fort  the  situation  afforded. 

Meanwhile  Francois  took  to  the  main  road  until 
close  to  the  village,  and  then  left  it  for  the  fields,  cau 
tiously  nearing  the  town,  a  small  place  of  some  twelve 
hundred  souls.  A  monotonous  double  line  of  scattered 
one-story  stone  houses  lay  along  the  highway.  Avoid 
ing  the  village,  Francois  moved  past  and  around  the 
red-roofed  Norman  farm-houses  which  lav  off  from 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  153 

the  main  highway.  Mounds  of  earth  set  around  the 
houses  walled  in  an  orchard  and  an  inclosure  of  many 
acres,  so  that,  seen  from  the  exterior,  they  had  the 
appearance  of  being  fortified.  The  lights  were  out, 
and  Francois  saw  no  one.  Now  and  then  a  sentinel 
dog  barked  as  the  wanderer  went  by  the  gateways, 
in  wonder  at  this  unusual  style  of  fence.  At  last 
he  turned  again  toward  the  road. 

The  town  was  quiet.  It  was  after  nine  at  night. 
Having  purposely  lingered  thus  long,  Frangois  ap 
proached  the  back  of  the  inn,  and  became  sure  that  it 
was  empty  of  guests.  A  little  beyond  it  was  the  vil 
lage  church,  and  as  this  was  lighted,  he  approached 
it  with  care.  The  crosses  of  the  burial-ground  were 
gone.  He  stumbled  over  graves,  and  at  last,  standing 
on  a  tomb,  got  a  fair  glimpse  of  the  interior  of  the 
church,  for  many  of  its  windows  were  broken.  It  was 
full  of  people,  and  the  murmur  of  noisy  debate  came 
to  his  ears.  He  felt  that  he  must  learn  what  was 
going  on.  With  this  in  view,  he  kept  under  the  deep 
shadow  of  the  wall,  and  soon  saw  that  the  outer  porch 
was  crowded  with  men  and  women,  listening  through 
the  open  door.  Favored  by  the  darkness,  he  got  un 
observed  into  this  mass  of  deeply  occupied  people, 
and  was  able  at  last  to  catch  a  little  of  what  was  going 
on.  Yes ;  this  was  the  club  of  Jacobins  which  his 
partner  Despard  had  been  sent  to  organize,  one  of  the 
hundreds  which  soon  conquered  and  led  opinion  all 
through  the  provinces. 

He  caught  the  usual  denunciation  of  entif/res  and  of 
the  ci-devant  aristocrats.  He  had  heard  it  all  before; 
it  did  not  help  him. 


154      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

Very  soon  an  elderly  man  in  peasant  dress  arose 
near  the  door.  He  spoke  of  something  which  they 
had  considered  as  well  to  be  done  soon.  He  thought 
it  better  to  wait  until  Citizen  Commissioner  Gregoire 
arrived.  To  arrest  a  ci-devant  aristocrat  like  Ste.  Luce 
was  of  course  proper ;  but  the  people  were  excited,  and 
might  do  mischief,  and  they  knew  that  the  Great 
Committee  did  not  approve  of  riots.  France  must 
have  rest.  These  outbreaks  had  ended  elsewhere  in 
the  deaths  of  hundreds  of  peasants.  He  bade  them 
wait,  and,  in  fact,  spoke  with  rare  .good  sense.  He 
was  roughly  interrupted.  His  speech  was  received 
with  laughter  and  contemptuous  cries,  and,  to  Fran- 
c.ois's  amazement,  there  was  Despard  on  his  feet,  not 
twenty  feet  away.  His  old  partner  was  somber-look 
ing  and  red-eyed,  but  seemed  to  have  lost  his  shy 
ness  of  speech.  He  broke  out  into  violent  invectives, 
charging  the  previous  speaker  with  indifference  to 
the  good  of  France.  This  man  was  no  doubt  a  traitor. 
He  had  been  in  the  service  of  the  ci-devant.  He  had 
advised  the  people  to  wait.  Were  they  not  the  rulers  ? 
The  Jacobin  clubs  would  see  to  this  rat  of  a  commis 
sioner;  let  him  come.  Then,  leaping  on  a  chair,  he 
began  to  contrast  the  luxury  in  which  Ste.  Luce  lived 
with  the  meager  life  of  the  peasant.  He  talked  of  the 
great  noble's  younger  life,  of  his  debauchery  and 
hardness.  All  knew  what  he  meant.  Not  he  alone 
had  suffered.  How  many  of  the  children  men  liked 
to  call  their  own  were  of  noble  blood  ? 

His  fluent  passion,  his  ease  of  speech,  his  apparent 
freedom  from  his  usual  mood  of  fear,  astonished 
Francois.  At  last  Despard  became  more  excited, 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF  FRANCOIS  155 

raved  wildly,  grew  incoherent,  paused,  burst  into  hor 
rors  of  blasphemous  allusion,  and,  utterly  exhausted, 
reeled,  and  dropped  into  his  chair,  amid  wild  applaud 
ing  cries  and  a  dozen  vain  efforts  of  speakers  eager  to 
be  heard.  As  if  satisfied,  the  crowd  waited  no  longer 
to  listen,  and  issued  out  in  just  the  mood  Despard 
had  desired  to  create.  Francois  stepped  aside,  un 
noticed.  Among  the  last,  surrounded  by  a  gesticulat 
ing  group,  came  Despard,  silent,  exhausted,  his  head 
bent  down.  A  voice  cried  out :  u  To-night !  Let  us 
do  it  to-night!  "  Despard  said  slowly:  "No,  not  to 
night.  He  is  not  there — he  is  not  there.  Perhaps 
to-morrow;  we  shall  see.  I  must  have  rest— rest." 

"Is  he  mad?"  thought  Francois.  " Diable!  How 
he  hates  him  !  Why  is  he  not  afraid  ? "  He  had  once 
heard  the  choir-master  tell  of  a  feeble,  timid  nun  who 
had  killed  two  people ;  and  this  man,  he  supposed, 
might  be,  like  her,  crazed.  No  matter;  he  must  use 
him.  The  crowd  dispersed,  and,  following  Despard  at 
a  distance,  Francois  saw  him  enter  the  house  of  the 
village  priest,  who  had  long  since  said  his  last  prayer 
in  the  garden  of  the  Carmelites. 

For  an  hour,  and  until  all  was  still,  Francois 
walked  to  and  fro  behind  the  house.  Suddenly  a 
door  opened  and  closed.  Francois  moved  around  the 
house.  He  saw  Despard  go  out  on  the  road.  After 
looking  about  him,  the  Jacobin  walked  swiftly  away, 
and  was  soon  past  the  farthest  houses. 

"  Dame ! "  said  Francois,  "  let  us  go  after  him. 
What  can  he  mean  ?  It  becomes  amusing."  Moving 
with  care  in  the  shadows  at  the  side  of  the  road,  he 
followed  Despard,  who  walked  down  the  middle  of 


156      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

the  highway,  now  and  then  stopping  short  and  crack 
ing  his  finger-joints,  as  he  used  to  do  when  worried, 
or  clasping  his  hands  over  the  back  of  his  neck. 

The  thief  smiled  as  he  went.  He  was  again  the 
savage  of  the  streets,  with  all  his  keen  wits  in  play, 
and  vaguely  aware  of  pleasure  in  the  use  of  his  train 
ing.  He  looked  about  him,  or  stole  noiselessly  from 
one  depth  of  gloom  to  another  across  some  less  shad 
owed  place.  He  put  out  with  care  one  long  leg  and 
then  the  other  tentatively,  like  great  feelers,  and  yet 
got  over  the  ground  with  speed,  as  was  required,  for 
Despard  walked  at  a  rate  which  was  unusual.  The 
great  ears  of  his  pursuer  were  on  guard.  Once,  when 
Despard  stopped  of  a  sudden,  Francois  was  near 
enough  to  hear  him  crack  his  knuckles  as  he  pulled  at 
them.  As  Pierre  stood,  he  threw  up  a  hand  as  it  were 
in  the  eager  gesture  of  a  speech,  or  in  silent,  custom- 
born  attestation  of  some  mentally  recorded  vow. 
Then  he  went  onward,  silent,  and  was  for  a  moment 
lost  to  view  in  the  aisles  of  the  forest  into  which  he 
turned.  Francois  moved  faster,  dimly  seeing  him 
again.  The  Jacobin  hurried  on.  The  man  who  fol 
lowed  him  was  smiling  in  the  darkness,  and  was  feed 
ing  curiosity  with  the  keen  satisfaction  he  felt  in  a 
chase  which  was  not  without  a  purpose. 

Despard  seemed  to  know  the  great  forest  well.  It 
soon  became  more  open.  He  came  to  a  low  garden 
wall,  and,  climbing  it,  was  heard  to  tumble  on  the 
farther  side  \vith  a  crash  of  breaking  earthenware. 
He  had  come  down  on  a  pile  of  garden  pots.  The 
thief  reflected  for  a  moment  that  his  partner  must 
have  lost  the  agility  of  his  former  business,  and  him- 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  157 

self  approached  the  wall  with  care.  Moving  to  one 
side,  he  dropped  to  the  ground,  as  quiet  as  a  prowling 
cat. 

There  was  no  moon,  but  the  night  was  clear,  and 
over  against  the  star-lit  space  he  saw  the  silhouette  of 
a  vast  chateau — angles,  gables,  turrets  with  vanes. 
The  man  whom  he  hunted  moved  across  the  garden, 
through  rose-hedges,  under  trees,  as  if  reckless  as  to 
being  heard.  Once  he  fell,  but  got  up  without  even 
an  exclamation  ;  and  so  on  and  on  in  stumbling  haste 
until  he  stood  upon  the  broad  terrace  in  front  of  the 
building. 

Francois  was  for  a  little  while  at  leisure  to  look 
about  him.  Despard,  with  a  sudden  movement,  strode 
to  the  foot  of  the  broad  steps  which  led  up  to  the 
lofty  doorway  of  the  chateau.  Here  again  he  stayed 
motionless.  Francois,  now  used  to  the  partial  ob 
scurity  of  the  night,  took  quick  note  of  the  white 
gleam  of  vases,  of  a  fountain's  monotonous  murmur, 
of  statues,  dim  gray  blurs  seen  against  the  dark  wood- 
spaces  beyond ;  the  great  size  of  the  house  he  saw,  and 
that  three  or  four  windows  showed  lights  within. 

What  was  Despard  about  to  do  ?  Francois  waited. 
Then  he  heard  now  and  then,  rising  and  falling,  the 
faint  notes  of  a  violoncello.  At  this  moment  he  saw 
that  Pierre  was  gesticulating,  and  at  last  caught 
sound  of  speech.  He  was  too  far  away  to  be  clearly 
seen  or  distinctly  heard.  Francois  sat  down,  took  off 
his  shoes,  tied  them  over  his  neck,  and  went  down  on 
all  fours.  It  was  one  of  his  old  tricks  to  amuse  thus 
the  children  gathered  before  the  show-booth.  He 
could  become  a  bear  or  an  elephant,  and  knew  how  to 


158  THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FRANgOIS 

simulate  the  walk  of  beasts.  Now  he  approached 
Despard  on  his  hands  and  feet,  and,  seen  in  the  partial 
gloom,  would  have  seemed  a  queer-looking  animal. 
A  closely  clipped  row  of  box  lay  between  them  and 
bordered  the  broad  roadway  leading  to  the  portal. 

His  approach  was  noiseless.  Even  if  it  had  not 
been,  it  is  unlikely  that  Despard  would  have  noticed 
it.  The  quadruped  knelt,  and  set  his  eyes  to  see  and 
his  ears  to  hear,  being  now  only  six  feet  away.  His 
own  fate  was  deeply  involved.  He  cared  little  for  the 
marquis,  but  up  out  of  the  dark  of  memory  came  the 
tender  sweetness  of  the  face  of  the  widowed  daughter. 
No  word  of  her  brief  pleading  was  forgotten  by  this 
man  who  craved  regard,  affection,  respect,  considera 
tion — all  that  he  had  not.  It  was  only  a  flash  of 
thought,  and  again  he  was  intently  receptive. 

Despard  stood,  shaking  his  arms  wildly,  looking 
here  and  there,  up  and  down.  At  last  he  spoke,  and 
so  loud  that  Francois  watched  him,  amazed  at  his  un 
natural  lack  of  caution. 

"  To-morrow  I,  Pierre  Despard,  shall  be  master.  I 
shall  no  more  be  afraid.  I  shall  see  thee  tremble  on 
the  tumbrel.  I  shall  see  thee  shudder  at  tl:e  knife." 

Francois  had  an  uncontrollable  shiver,  predictive, 
sympathetic.  Could  he  trust  this  creature?  There 
was  no  help  for  it.  He  recalled  with  a  smile  one  of 
the  Crab's  proverbs:  "Monsieur  Must  is  a  man  to 
trust."  She  had  many  and  vile  sayings  ;  this  was  one 
of  the  few  that  were  not  swine-wisdom. 

As  the  man  went  on  speaking,  his  hands  threatened 
the  silent  house  or  snatched  at  some  unseen  thing. 
He  stood  again  moveless  for  a  moment,  and  then 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF   PRANgOIS  159 

threw  out  his  hands  as  if  in  appeal,  and  called  aloud  : 
"Renee!  Renee!  art  thou  here?  Oh,  could  he  not 
have  spared  thee  to  me— to  me,  who  had  so  little? 
And  he  had  so  much !  Oh,  for  the  name  he  should 
have  spared  thee  !  For  the  shame — the  shame.  Re- 
nee,  his  own  child's  name.  My  Renee  is  dead,  and 
his— his  Renee  lives ;  but  not  long— not  long." 

u])ieidr  murmured  Francois.  "Let  him  have  the 
man.  Dame!  I  should  have  killed  him  long  ago." 

Pierre  was  raving,  and  was  only  at  times  to  be  under 
stood.  He  seemed  to  be  seeing  this  lost  Renee,  and 
was  now  rational  and  again  incoherent  or  foolishly 
vague. 

Francois  hesitated ;  but  at  this  moment  a  window 
on  the  second  floor  was  cast  open,  and  a  man,  who 
may  have  heard  Despard,  showed  himself.  Francois 
looked  up,  and  saw  a  slight  figure  framed  in  the  win 
dow-space  clear  against  the  light  behind  him. 

Despard  cried  out  in  tones  of  terror :  "  The  mar 
quis  !  the  marquis !  "  and,  turning,  fled  down  the  ter 
race  and  along  the  avenue. 

"  Queer,  that,"  muttered  Francois.  "  He  is  afraid. 
I  must  have  him."  He  put  on  his  shoes  in  haste,  and 
with  great  strides  pursued  the  retreating  figure,  hear 
ing,  as  he  ran,  the  servant  crying  from  the  window, 
"  Who  goes  there  ? " 

A  hundred  yards  away  from  the  house,  Despard, 
terrified  at  the  nearing  steps,  turned  into  a  side  alley, 
and  at  last  tore  through  a  thicket  to  the  left. 

In  an  instant  Francois  had  him  by  the  collar.  The 
captured  man  screamed  like  a  child  in  a  panic  of  alarm, 
while  Francois  shook  him  as  a  terrier  shakes  a  rat. 


160      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

"Mille  tonnerres!  idiot,  keep  quiet!  Don't  kick;  it 
is  no  use.  Thou  wilt  have  the  whole  house  after  thee. 
'T  is  I— Francois.  Keep  quiet !  Look  at  me— Fran- 
c,ois.  Dost  not  hear  ? "  At  last  he  was  quieted. 

"What  seared  thee,  mon  ami?" 

"  I  saw  him— I  saw  the  marquis  !     I  saw  him  !  " 

"Monsieur — the  marquis?  He  is  thrice  that  fel 
low's  size." 

They  were  now  seated  on  the  ground,  Despard 
panting,  and  darting  quick  glances  to  right  and  left 
like  a  frightened  animal. 

"  Come,  Pierre,  tell  me  what  all  this  means.  Art 
gone  clean  out  of  thy  wits  ? " 

"Why  dost  thou  ask?  Thou  dost  know  well 
enough.  I  have  waited — waited.  Now  I  have  him." 

"  Dame  !  Thou  ?  Thou  wilt  never  face  him.  Thou 
art  afraid." 

"I  am  now.  I  shall  not  be  to-morrow  night. 
There  will  be  hundreds.  I  shall  look  !  I  shall  see  !  " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  cried  Francois,  <(  talk  a  little 
sense.  A  man  who  fears  a  mouse  to  talk  of  killing 
this  terrible  fellow  !  " 

"  The  law  will  kill  him,  not  I.     The  law— the  knife." 

"  Stuff  !  A  certain  commissioner,  Gregoire,  is  after 
thee,  and,  worse,  after  me.  He  hath  a  wart  on  his 
nose.  I  ran  away  to  avoid  those  cursed  Jacobins. 
Passport  all  right — name  of  Jean  Francois.  Mind 
thee !  My  father  is  old  and  failing.  Thou  wilt  have 
to  find  me  a  papa.  Gregoire  has — he  has  doubts,  this 
Gregoire.  So  have  I.  When  I  told  him  you  were 
my  friend,  he  shut  me  up  in  a  cellar,  and  that  I  liked 
not.  I  was  a  fool  to  run  away ;  but,  mon  Dieu!  there 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEAN^OIS  161 

was  my  errand — to  see  that  poor  father — all  set  out 
on  my  passport,  and  the  man  with  the  wart  inquisi 
tive.  I  had  to  get  here  and  find  my  papa." 

Another  man's  difficulties  took  off  Pierre's  mind 
from  his  own.  He  was  clear  enough  now,  and  asked 
questions,  some  hard  to  answer,  but  all  reasonable. 

Francois  related  his  story.  The  fencing-master  had 
fallen  under  suspicion  and  run  away.  He,  Francois, 
likewise  suspected,  had  got  a  passport  from  a  Jacobin 
fencing-pupil,  and  come  hither  to  fall  on  the  neck  of 
his  dear  friend  Pierre.  It  was  neat,  and  hung  together 
well.  It  had  many  omissions,  and  as  a  whole  lacked 
the  fundamental  quality  of  truth,  but  it  answered. 
When  a  man's  head  is  set  to  save  his  head,  it  may  not 
always  be  desirable  to  be  accurate. 

Pierre  reflected ;  then  he  cried  out  suddenly : 
"  This  Gregoire !  That  for  him !  Let  him  take 
care.  Art  thou  still  a  Royalist  ? " 

Francois  was  a  Jacobin  of  the  best,  unjustly  sus 
pected.  He  was  eager  to  know  what  deviltry  was  in 
Pierre's  mind  as  to  this  marquis ;  and  there,  too,  was 
the  daughter.  If  he  meant  to  stir  these  peasants  to 
riot  in  order  to  gratify  himself  and  his  well-justified 
hatred,  that  might  sadly  influence  Francois's  fate. 
The  central  power  in  Paris  was  merciless  to  lawless 
violence  which  did  not  aid  its  own  purposes. 

Francois  talked  on  and  on  slackly,  getting  time 
to  think.  Pierre's  speech  had  troubled  him.  He 
was  puzzled  as  he  saw  more  distinctly  the  nature 
of  the  man  whom  he  was  forced  to  trust.  He  did 
not  analyze  him.  He  merely  apprehended  and  dis 
trusted  one  who  was  to-day  a  shrinking  coward 


162      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

and  to-morrow  a  man  to  be  feared  less  for  what  he 
might  do  than  for  what  he  might  lead  others  to  do 
when  himself  remote  from  sources  of  immediate  phys 
ical  fear.  Francois  did  not — could  not — fully  know 
that  he  was  now  putting  himself  in  the  power  of  one 
who  was  the  victim  of  increasing  attacks  of  melan 
choly,  with  intervals  of  excitement  during  which  the 
victim  was  eagerly  homicidal,  and  possessed  for  a 
time  the  recklessness  and  the  cunning  of  the  partly 
insane. 

"Come,"  said  Francois,  at  last;  "you  must  hide 
me  until  you  can  find  me  that  papa,  or  until  Citizen 
Gregoire  has  come  and  gone.  I  like  him  not." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Pierre.  u  But  let  him  take  care ;  I  am 
not  a  man  to  be  played  with." 

Francois  said  he  should  think  not,  but  that  if  he 
meditated  an  attack  on  that  miserable  ci-devant  yon 
der,  it  were  better  to  wait  until  Gregoire  had  come 
and  gone. 

This  caution  seemed  to  awaken  suspicion.  Pierre 
turned,  and  caught  Francois's  arm.  "  Thou  art  a  spy 
—  a  spy  of  the  Convention  !  " 

u  Thou  must  be  more  fond  of  a  joke  than  was  once 
thy  way.  Nonsense !  I  could  go  back  and  warn  the 
marquis.  That  would  serve  the  republic,  and  well, 
too ;  for,  by  Heaven !  if  thou  art  of  a  mind  to  burn 
houses,  Robespierre  will  shorten  thee  by  a  head  in  no 
time." 

"  Who  talks  of  burning  houses  ?  Am  I  a  fool  ?  I— 
Despard  ? " 

"  No,  indeed.  Thou—"  Francois  needed  the  man's 
help,  and  felt  that  he  was  risking  his  own  safety.  He 


THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FBANQOIS  163 

must  at  least  seem  to  trust  him.  "  Dost  thou  mean 
to  arrest  Ste.  Luce?" 

"I  do." 

"But  when?" 

11  Oh,  in  a  day  or  two ;  no  hurry." 

Francois  knew  that  he  was  hearing  a  lie.  "  Good," 
he  said.  "  But  I  advise  thee  against  violence." 

"  There  will  be  none.  I  control  these  people.  Thou 
shouldst  see ;  thou  shouldst  hear  me  speak." 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  Francois,  and  they  returned  to 
the  village  without  a  word  on  either  side.  The  hamlet 
was  quiet.  At  the  priest's  door  Francois  said  :  "  Wait 
for  me.  I  must  fetch  my  bundle  and  Toto.  I  left  them 
in  the  wood."  Pierre  would  wait.  In  an  hour  his  ex- 
partner  came  back,  and  before  he  could  knock  was 
admitted  by  the  anxious  Jacobin. 

When  they  were  within  the  house,  he  told  Francois 
that  he  lived  alone.  An  old  woman  cooked  for  him, 
and  came  in  the  morning  and  went  away  at  dusk. 
He7  Francois,  should  have  the  garret ;  and,  this  being 
settled,  they  carried  thither  cold  meats,  bread,  cheese, 
wine,  and  water,  so  as  to  provision  the  thief  for  a  few 
days.  There  would  be  time  to  talk  later.  Francois 
asked  a  single  question,  saying  frankly  that  he  had 
heard  Pierre  speak  to  his  club.  Certainly  he  had 
power  over  the  people.  What  was  it  he  had  meant  to 
do,  and  when?  Despard  hesitated.  Then  the  cun 
ning  of  a  crumbling  mind  came  to  his  aid,  and  he  re 
plied  lightly: 

11  We  shall  wait  till  Gregoire  has  gone.  I  told  thee 
so  already.  Thy  advice  was  good.  I  do  not  know. 
We  shall  see— we  shall  see."  The  door  closed  after 


164      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

him.  The  man,  descending  the  stair,  paused  of  a  sud 
den,  the  prey  of  suspicion.  Why  did  Francois  come 
hither?  Was  he  a  spy  of  the  marquis — of  the  Con 
vention  ?  He  feared  Francois.  To  one  in  his  state 
of  mind  little  obstacles  seem  large,  great  obstacles 
small.  He  must  watch  him.  He  was  in  his  power. 

The  man  left  within  the  room  was  not  less  suspi 
cious.  He  hung  a  cover  over  the  single  window,  locked 
the  door,  and  lay  down,  with  Toto  at  his  feet,  and  at 
his  side  his  rapier  and  pistols.  He  slept  a  tranquil 
sleep.  Most  of  the  next  day  he  sat  at  the  window, 
watching  through  a  slit  in  the  curtain  the  street  below 
him.  People  came  and  went ;  groups  gathered  about 
the  desecrated  church ;  there  was  much  excitement, 
but  he  could  hear  nothing.  At  dusk  he  saw  a  num 
ber  of  men,  some  with  sticks  and  pikes,  come  toward 
the  priest's  house.  Owing  to  his  position,  he  lost 
sight  of  them  as  they  came  nearer,  but  from  the  noise 
below  he  presumed  them  to  have  entered.  He  was, 
for  many  reasons,  indisposed  to  remain  uninformed. 
He  waited.  The  noise  increased.  Pierre  had  not 
come  to  visit  him,  as  he  had  said  he  would ;  and  where 
was  that  much-desired  father?  He  laughed.  "Ah, 
Toto,  one  must  needs  be  his  own  papa."  He  had  gone 
about  all  day  in  his  stocking-feet  to  avoid  being  over 
heard.  Now  he  bade  Toto  be  quiet,  and,  opening  the 
door,  went  cautiously  down  the  stone  stairway.  It 
was  quite  dark.  On  the  last  landing  he  stood,  intently 
listening.  The  hallway  below  was  full  of  men,  and 
evidently  the  two  rooms  on  the  ground  floor  were  as 
crowded.  He  overheard  Despard's  voice,  angry  and 
strenuous.  The  words  he  could  not  catch,  but  the 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  165 

comments  of  those  in  the  wide  hall  were  enough.  The 
commissioner  was  coming,  and  would  interfere.  Des- 
pard  was  right.  The  marquis  was  about  to  fly,  to 
emigrate.  He  must  be  arrested.  They  poured  out, 
shouting,  tumultuous,  to  join  the  excited  mob  in  the 
street. 

Francois  went  quickly  up  the  stair.  He  cared 
little  for  the  marquis,  but  he  cared  much  for  the'pale 
lady  whose  face  was  stamped  in  his  memory.  More 
over,  all  this  ruin  and  threatened  bloodshed  were  not 
to  his  mind.  A  day's  reflection  had  enabled  him  to 
conclude  that,  between  Gregoire  and  Despard,  the 
situation  was  perilous,  and  that  he  had  better  disap 
pear  from  the  scene.  Meanwhile  he  would  warn  the 
marquis,  and  then  go  his  way. 

He  put  on  his  shoes,  took  his  bundle,  his  arms,  and 
Toto,  and,  with  his  cloak  on  his  shoulder,  slipped 
quietly  down-stairs.  The  house  was  empty.  He  went 
out  the  back  way  unseen,  observing  that  the  church 
was  lighted,  and  seeing  a  confused  mass  of  noisy 
peasants  about  the  door. 


XVI 

How  Francois  warns  the  Marquis  de  Ste.  Luce,  and  of  the 
battle  on  the  staircase  between  the  old  day  and  the 
new. 

was  now  close  to  nine,  and  again  a 
bright,  cold,  starry  night.  A  long  cir 
cuit  brought  him  to  the  highroad.  A 
mile  away  he  struck  into  a  broad  avenue, 
and,  never  pausing,  pushed  on.  His 
sense  of  locality  was  acute  and  like  that  of  an  animal. 
Once  or  twice  he  was  sure  that  he  heard  dull  noises 
behind  him  when  the  sharp  night  wind  blew  from  the 
village. 

"Ah,  Toto,"he  murmured,  "keep  them  close  to  heel. 
This  is  our  greatest  adventure.  I  would  we  were  out 
of  it.  Ah,  the  chateau  !  "  He  ran  across  the  flower 
beds,  and  with  long  leaps  up  the  steps,  and  sounded 
a  strong  summons  on  the  knocker  of  the  great  door. 
A  servant  opened  it.  "Where  is  the  marquis  ?" 
What  the  man  said  he  did  not  wait  to  hear.  The 
lofty  hall  was  dark,  but  the  principal  staircase  was 
lighted  faintly  from  above.  Without  a  word,  Fran 
cois  hurried  past  the  servant  and  up  the  stairs.  From 
the  broad  landing  he  saw  beyond  him  a  lighted  draw- 

166 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS  107 

ing-room,  and  heard  the  notes  of  a  violoncello.  There 
was  the  woman,  pale  and  beautiful,  in  black,  her  face 
upturned,  the  boy  holding  before  her  a  sheet  of  music. 
The  human  richness  of  the  cello's  tones  sounded 
through  the  great  chamber.  Where  had  he  seen  the 
like  "?  Ah,  that  picture  in  the  vestry  of  Notre  Dame 
—the  face  of  St.  Cecilia!  He  had  a  moment  of  in 
tense  joy  at  having  come.  Till  then  he  had  doubted 
if  it  were  wise.  As  he  stood,  the  marquis  came  to 
ward  him  quickly  from  the  side  of  the  room,  and  two 
gentlemen  left  a  card-table  and  started  up. 

Francois  wrent  in  at  once,  meeting  the  marquis 
within  the  room.  The  music  ceased;  the  woman 
cried,  "  Mon  Dieu!  "  Every  one  stared  at  this  strange 
figure. 

"What  is  it,  my  man!  Venire  St.  Gris!  't  is  my 
thief !  This  way,"  and  he  led  him  aside  into  a  little 
room,  while  the  rest,  silent  and  troubled,  looked  after 
them. 

"  Monsieur,  to  waste  no  words,  these  cursed  peasants 
are  on  their  way  to  do  here  what  mischief  the  devil 
knows.  It  is  you  they  want.  There  is  a  fool,  one 
Despard,  who  leads  them.  But,  Dieu!  there  is  small 
time  to  think." 

Francois,  breathless,  panting,  stood  looking  about 
him,  now  as  always  observant,  and  curious  as  to  this 
wonderful  room  and  this  impassive  gentleman.  Toto, 
as  well  blown  as  his  master,  recognizing  the  value  of 
a  soft  rug,  dropped,  head  on  legs,  meaning  to  have  at 
least  the  minute's  luxury  and  rest. 

The  marquis  stood  still  in  thought  a  moment.  "  I 
am  greatly  obliged  to  you;  and  this  is  twice— twice. 


168 

I  expected  trouble,  but  not  so  soon.  Come  this 
way." 

Francois  followed.  Toto  kept  one  eye  on  him,  and 
slept  with  the  other.  As  they  reentered  the  great 
salon,  the  two  gentlemen  and  Mme.  Renee,  all  visibly 
agitated,  came  to  meet  them.  "What  is  it?"  they 
asked.  The  marquis  forestalled  further  inquiry. 

"  My  daughter,  our  kindly  peasants  wrill  be  here  in 
an  hour — no,  half  an  hour,  or  less.  Resistance  is  use 
less.  To  fly  is  to  confess  the  need  to  fly ;  it  is  not  to 
my  taste.  You  gentlemen  are  better  out  of  this.  Go 
at  once — at  once  !  " 

"  Yes,  go  !  "  said  madame.  "  You  cannot  help  us, 
and  can  only  make  bad  worse." 

They  wasted  no  time,  and  few  words  passed.  The 
little  drama  played  itself  quickly. 

"  Adieu,  madame  !  "  Madame  courtesied.  The  boy 
walked  over  and  stood  by  his  grandfather.  He  looked 
up  at  his  clear-cut  face,  with  its  cold  smile,  and  then 
at  the  backs  of  the  retiring  gentlemen.  He  had  a 
boy's  sense  of  these  being  deserters.  They  were  gone 
in  hot  haste. 

Mme.  Renee  came  nearer.  "We  thank  you— I 
thank  you " ;  and  she  put  out  her  hand.  Francois 
took  it  awkwardly.  A  touch  of  the  hand  of  this  high 
bred,  saintly  lady,  gmnde  dame  and  true  woman,  sin 
gularly  disturbed  the  man.  The  tremor  of  a  strange 
emotion  ran  over  him.  He  let  fall  the  soft  hand,  and 
drew  himself  up  to  the  full  of  his  unusual  height, 
saying:  "It  is  little— very  little." 

"And  now  you  must  go,"  she  said;  "and  at  once." 

"Of  course— of  course,"  said  Ste.  Luce.     "Out  the 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRAXgOIS  169 

back  way.  Victor  will  show  you."  There  were  no 
further  thanks.  All  such  common  men  had  served 
the  great  noble ;  it  seemed  of  the  nature  of  thfings. 
But  the  woman  said : 

'•  God  protect  you  !  God  will  know  to  thank  you. 
I  cannot  fitly.  Go— go  !  " 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  go,"  said  Francois.  "  Hark  !  it 
is  too  late.''  He  knew  not  then,  or  ever,  why  he  stayed. 
The  boy  looked  up  at  him.  Here  was  another  kind 
of  man,  and  not  a  gentleman,  either.  Why  did  he 
not  go  ? 

An  old  majordomo  came  with  uncertain  steps  of 
nervous  haste,  crying :  "  The  servants  are  gone, 
monsieur !  The  people  are  coming  up  the  avenue ! 
Mon  Dleu  !  " 

"  Indeed  !     Now  be  off  with  you,  Master  Thief." 

"  No."  His  head  said,  "  Go " ;  his  heart  said, 
"  Stay." 

"  By  St.  Denis,  but  you  are  a  fool !  " 

Francois  muttered  that  he  had  been  that  always, 
and  then  felt  the  hand  of  the  boy  touch  his  own.  He 
called :  "  Toto  !  Toto  !  We  will  stay."  And  the  dog, 
at  ease  in  all  society,  selected  a  yet  softer  rug. 

The  marquis  troubled  himself  no  further  as  to  Fran- 
c,ois.  He  went  out  of  the  room,  and  was  back  in  a  min 
ute,  while  the  uproar  increased,  and  Mine.  Renee,  at  the 
window,  pleaded  with  the  thief,  urging  him  to  fly,  or 
cried:  "They  are  coming!  Oh,  a  crowd— a  mob— 
with  torches  and  arms  !  The  saints  protect  us  !  Why 
will  you  not  go '?  Oh,  won  pere — father !  thou  hast  thy 
rapier.  What  canst  thou  against  hundreds — hun 
dreds?" 


170      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

The  marquis  smiled.  "  Costume  de  rigueur,  my  dear. 
There  will  be  110  bloodshed,  my  child." 

"And  they  will  all  run,"  cried  the  boy.  "And  it' 
grandpapa  has  to  surrender,  he  must  give  up  his 
sword.  When  my  papa  was  taken  in  America,  he 
had  to—" 

"  Hush  !  "  said  the  mother.  The  lad  was  singularly 
outside  of  the  tragic  shadows  of  the  hour. 

Francois  all  this  while  stood  near  the  window,  his 
cloak  cast  back,  his  queer,  smile-lit  face  intent  now  on 
the  mob  without,  now  on  the  woman,  the  boy,  the 
man.  "Dame!"  he  muttered.  "We  are  in  danger 
ously  high  society."  He  set  his  knapsack  aside,  cast 
off  his  cloak,  loosened  his  rapier  in  its  sheath,  looked 
to  the  priming  of  his  pistols,  and  waited  to  see  what 
would  happen  when  this  yelling  thing  out  yonder 
should  burst  into  action. 

"  They  must  have  made  mad  haste,  madame." 

"  They  are  on  the  tori-ace.  Mother  of  Heaven  !  " 
cried  the  woman.  "  They  wait !  A  man  is  speaking 
to  them.  They  have  torches.  Some  go— some  go  to 
right  around  the  house."  A  stone  splintered  the  win 
dow-glass,  and  she  fell  back.  "  Wretches  !  " 

The  marquis  turned  to  her.  "  Stay  here.  I  go  to 
receive  our  guests." 

"No,  no!  " 

"  Do  as  I  tell  thee.  Be  still."  She  caught  the  boy 
to  her,  and  fell  into  a  chair,  sobbing.  The  marquis 
called  to  the  quaking  majordomo :  "  Take  those  two 
candelabra.  Set  them  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase — 
the  foot."  The  old  servant  obeyed  without  words. 
The  marquis  went  by  him.  He  seemed  to  have  for- 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  171 

gotten  Francois,  who  glanced  at  Mine.  Renee  and  fol 
lowed  the  master  of  the  house. 

There  had  been  a  moment's  lull  outside.  The  double 
stairway  swept  down  to  a  landing,  and  then  in  one 
noble  descent  to  the  great  deserted  hall,  where  the 
faded  portraits  of  lord  and  lady  looked  down  among 
armor  and  trophies  of  war  and  chase. 

11  Put  those  lights  there— and  there.  Get  two  more 
—  quick!  Set  them  on  the  brackets  below.  One  must 
see.  Put  out  the  lights  in  the  drawing-room.  What, 
you  here  yet,  Master  Thief  ?  What  the  devil  are  you 
doing  here  ?  The  deuce !  "  As  he  spoke  they  were 
standing  together  on  the  broad  landing,  before  them 
the  great  stair  which  led  down  to  the  illuminated  hall 
below.  The  marquis  had  meant  to  meet  these  people 
outside ;  he  was  quiet,  cool,  the  master  of  many  re 
sources.  Surprised  at  the  suddenness  of  the  outbreak, 
he  still  counted,  with  the  courage  of  habit,  on  his  per 
sonal  influence  and  address.  As  the  marquis  spoke, 
the  roar  without  broke  forth  anew.  A  shower  of 
stones  clattered  011  door  and  wall  and  window  with 
sharp  crash  and  tinkle  of  breaking  glass.  It  was  fol 
lowed  by  an  indescribable  tumult — shouts,  laughter, 
the  shrill  voices  of  women,  a  multitudinous  appeal  to 
fear,  ominous,  such  as  no  man  could  hear  unmoved. 
The  animal  we  call  a  mob  was  there — the  thing  of 
moods,  like  a  madman,  now  destructive,  now  as  a 
brute  brave,  now  timid  as  a  house-fly. 

They  beat  on  the  great  doors,  and  of  a  sudden 
seemed  to  discover  that  the  servants,  in  flying,  had 
not  secured  them.  The  doors  gave  way,  and  those  in 
front  were  hurled  into  the  hall  by  the  pressure  of 


172  THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FEANgOIS 

those  behind.  In  an  instant  it  was  half  full  of  peas 
ants  armed  with  all  manner  of  rude  weapons.  A 
dozen  had  torches  of  sheep's  wool  wrapped  about 
pitchforks  and  soaked  with  tar.  Their  red  flames 
flared  up,  with  columns  above  of  thick  smoke.  There 
were  women,  lads.  None  had  muskets.  Some  looked 
about  them,  curious.  Those  without  shouted  and 
pressed  to  get  in ;  but  this  was  no  longer  easy.  A 
few  of  the  boldest  began  to  move  up  the  lower  steps 
of  the  great  staircase.  At  the  landing  above,  in  par 
tial  obscurity,  stood  the  marquis  and  Francois.  On 
the  next  rise  behind  them  were  Mine.  Renee  and  her 
boy,  unnoticed,  unwilling  to  be  left  alone.  The  stair 
way  and  all  above  it  were  darker  than  the  red-lighted 
hall,  where  ravage  was  imminent.  A  man  struck 
with  a  butcher's  mallet  a  suit  of  armor.  It  rang  with 
the  blow,  and  fell  with  clang  and  rattle,  hurting  a 
boy,  who  screamed.  The  butcher  leaped  on  the  ped 
estal  and  yelled,  waving  one  of  the  iron  gauntlets. 
They  who  hesitated,  leaderless,  at  the  foot  of  the  dark 
ascent  turned  at  the  sound  of  the  tumbled  past. 

The  marquis  cried  aloud,  "  Halt,  there  !  " 

Some  mischievous  lad  outside  cast  a  club  at  the 
side  Avindow  of  the  hall,  and  the  quartered  arms  of 
Ste.  Luce,  De  Rohan,  and  their  kin  fell  with  sharp, 
jangling  notes  on  the  floor  and  on  the  heads  of  the 
crowd. 

"  Halt,  I  say  !  "  The  voice  rang  out  of  the  gloom, 
strong  and  commanding.  The  marquis's  sword  was 
out.  u  Draw,  my  charming  thief.  Morituri  te  salu- 
tant ! " 

"  What  ? "  cried  Francois—  "  what  is  that  ? " 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS      173 

" Nothing1.  We  are  about  to  die;  that  is  all.  Let 
us  send  some  couriers  to  Hades.  You  should  have 
gone  away.  Now  you  are  about  to  die." 

Francois  drew  his  long  rapier.  He  was  strangely 
elated.  "We  are  going  to  die,  Toto."  The  dog 
barked  furiously.  "  Keep  back !  "  cried  his  master. 
Then  he  heard  Pierre  Despard's  shrill  voice  cry  out : 
"  Surrender,  Citizen  Ste.  Luce,  or  it  will  be  worse  for 
thee."  The  mob  screamed  :  "  Despard !  Despard  !  " 
He  was  hustled  forward,  amid  renewed  shouts,  cries, 
crash  of  falling  vases,  and  jangling  clatter  of  broken 
glass.  The  reluctant  leader  tried  to  keep  near  to  the 
door.  The  mob  was  of  other  mind.  He  was  thrust 
through  the  press  to  the  foot  of  the  stair,  with  cries 
of  "  Vive  Despard  !  Vive  Despard  !  "  The  people  on 
the  stair,  fearing  no  resistance,  were  pushed  up, 
shouting,  u  A  bas  les  einiyref;!" 

u  Now,  then  !  "  cried  the  marquis.  "  Get  back  there, 
dogs  !  "  The  two  blades  shot  out.  A  man  fell ;  an 
other,  touched  in  the  shoulder,  screamed,  and  leaped 
over  the  balustrade ;  the  rest  fell  away,  one  man  on 
another,  with  shrieks  and  groans.  Francois  caught  a 
lad  climbing  on  the  outside  of  the  gilded  rail,  and, 
with  a  laugh,  threw  him  on  the  heads  of  those  below. 
A  joy  unknown  before  possessed  the  thief— the  lust 
of  battle,  the  sense  of  competency.  He  took  in  the 
whole  scene,  heart,  mind,  and  body  alive  as  never 
before. 

"  Sang  de  St.  Denis!  You  are  a  gallant  man.  But 
we  are  lost.  They  will  be  on  our  backs  in  a  moment ; 
I  hear  them."  Amid  a  terrible  din,  stones  and  sticks 
flew.  A  pebble  struck  the  marquis  in  the  face. 


174  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

"  Dame!  "  he  cried,  furious,  and  darted  down  a  step  or 
two,  the  quick  rapier  mercilessly  stabbing  here  and 
there.  One  madder  than  the  rest  set  a  torch  to  a 
priceless  tapestry.  It  flared  up,  lighting  the  great 
space  and  the  stair,  and  doing  in  the  end  no  harm. 
Despard,  terrified,  was  pushed  forward  to  the  edge  of 
the  fallen  bodies  on  the  staircase. 

"  Surrender !  "  he  called  out  in  a  shriek  of  fear,  for 
here  before  him  were  the  two  men  he  most  dreaded 
on  earth.  The  noise  was  indescribable.  The  butcher 
beat  with  the  iron  gauntlet  on  a  shield  beside  him ; 
then  he  threw  the  steel  glove  at  Francois.  It  flew 
high.  There  was  a  cry  from  the  space  behind.  The 
little  boy  screamed  shrilly,  "They  have  killed  my 
mama ! " 

Francois  looked  behind  him.  There  was  now  light 
enough,  and  too  much.  He  saw  the  woman  lying,  a 
convulsed,  tumbled  heap,  on  the  stair.  The  marquis 
glanced  behind  him,  and  lost  his  cool  quietude.  He 
ran  down  the  stair,  stabbing  furiously.  A  half-dozen 
dead  and  wounded  lay  before  him.  In  an  instant  he 
was  back  again  beside  Francois,  his  face  bleeding  from 
the  stones  and  sticks  thrown  at  him.  Francois  was 
standing,  tall  and  terrible  in  his  auger,  a  pistol  in  his 
hand. 

"Shall  I  kill  him,  monsieur?" 

"  By  Heaven,  yes  !  " 

The  pistol  resounded  terribly  in  the  vaulted  space, 
and  the  brute  who  had  thrown  the  gauntlet,  swaying, 
screamed  shrilly,  and  tumbled— dead. 

"  Give  me  your  hand  !  "  cried  the  marquis.  "  Thank 
you,  monsieur;  the  devil  hath  a  recruit.  Now  fol- 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF   FRANgOIS  175 

low  me.  Let  us  kill  and  die.  To  hell  with  this 
rabble ! » 

"Wait,"  cried  Francois,  and,  running  down  the 
steps,  put  out  a  long  arm  and  caught  Despard.  He 
hauled  him  savagely  after  him,  calling  out,  "  Hold  the 
stair  a  moment !  "  In  an  instant  he  was  on  the  land 
ing  above,  with  his  prey.  His  sword  he  let  fall,  and 
set  a  pistol  to  Despard's  head.  The  terror  of  the 
trapped  Jacobin  was  pitiful.  He  prayed  for  life.  He 
would  let  them  all  go ;  he  would— he  would.  Fran- 
^ois  swung  him  round  to  face  the  suddenly  silenced 
mob.  "  Keep  still,  or  I  will  scatter  your  brains,  fool ! 
Tell  them  to  go !  Tell  them  to  go,  or,  sang  de  Dieu! 
thou  art  a  dead  man  !  " 

Pierre  screamed  out  his  orders:  "Go— go— all  of 
you.  I  order — go  !  " 

The  beast  he  had  trained  and  led  was  of  no  such 
mind.  A  man  called  out.  "  Die  like  a  man,  coward  !  " 
A  stone  or  two  flew.  One  struck  him.  The  storm 
broke  out  anew. 

"  Say  thy  prayers.  Thou  art  dead.  Shall  I  kill  him, 
monsieur  ? " 

"  No,  no ;  not  that  man — not  him  !  " 

"  Mercy  !  "  screamed  Despard. 

"  The  deuce  !  "  laughed  Francois.  "  It  gets  warm, 
monsieur.  What  to  do  with  this  coward  ?  Keep  still, 
insect ! " 

The  mob  had  for  a  little  time  enough  of  these  ter 
rible  swordsmen  on  the  stair.  It  was  awed,  helpless. 
Below  lay,  head  down  or  athwart,  three  dead  men, 
and  certain  wounded,  unable  to  crawl.  The  mob 

shrank  away,  and,  with  eyes  red  in  the  glare,  swayed 
11 


176       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

to  and  fro,  indecisive,  swearing.  For  a  moment  no 
more  missiles  were  thrown.  They  awaited  the  expected 
attack  from  the  rear  of  the  house. 

Pierre  hung,  a  limp,  inert  thing,  one  arm  on  the 
balustrade,  the  thief's  strong  clutch  on  his  neck, 
making  his  shivering  bulk  a  shield  against  stick  and 
stone. 

"It  will  soon  be  over,"  said  the  marquis,  quietly. 
"  There  !  I  thought  so." 

A  dull  roar  was  heard,  and  the  crash  of  broken 
glass  from  somewhere  behind  them. 

This  signal  set  loose  the  cowed  mob.  Clubs  and 
stones  flew.  Something  struck  Pierre.  He  squealed 
like  a  hurt  animal,  pain  and  terror  in  the  childlike  cry. 
More  men  crowded  in,  and  the  mass,  with  shout  and 
cry,  surged  forward,  breaking  mirrors  and  vases,  with 
frantic  joy  in  the  clatter  of  destruction. 

"  It  is  serious  this  time,"  cried  the  marquis.  "  Adieu, 
my  brave  fellow."  Another  tapestry  flared  up,  slowly 
burning.  "  Let  us  take  toll,  Francois.  Come  !  " 

"  Good,  monsieur !     But  my  fool  here — 

At  this  moment  the  crowd  at  the  door  divided.  A 
dozen  soldiers  broke  in,  and  with  them  the  man  of  the 
wart— Gregoire. 

"Dame!"  cried  Francois;  "the  Commissioner  Gre 
goire  !  The  wart !  It  is  time  to  leave." 

"Order,  here,"  shouted  Gregoire,  "in  the  name  of 
the  law ! "  The  guard  pushed  in  and  made  a  lane. 
One  or  two  persistent  rioters  were  collared  and 
passed  out.  A  dead  silence  fell  on  all.  The  shreds 
of  the  tapestry  dropped.  The  mob  fell  back. 

"  Help  !  help  !  "  cried  Pierre. 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  177 

"Morlteu!  dost  thou  want  to  die?" 

"It  is  over,"  said  the  marquis.  " I  prefer  my  peas 
ants." 

Gregoire  called  out,  "Where  is  the  mayor?"  A 
reluctant  little  man  appeared. 

"  Commissioner,  these  men  have  slain  citizens,"  he 
said. 

"And  they  did  well.  France  wants  order.  Out 
with  you  all,  or  I  shall  fire  on  you.  Citizens  indeed ! 
See  to  that  stuff  burning." 

The  peasants,  awed,  slunk  away.  Gregoire  coolly 
mounted  the  stairs. 

"  Hold  !  "  cried  the  marquis. 

"  I  arrest  thee  in  the  name  of  the  law  !  Here  is  my 
order." 

The  marquis  took  it. 

"The  light  is  bad,"  he  said;  "but  I  see  it  is  in 
good  form.  The  law  I  obey— and  muskets";  and 
then,  in  a  half -whisper  to  Francois :  "  Run  !  run  !  I 
will  hold  the  stairs." 

Gregoire  overheard  him. 

"  The  citizen  emigre!  I  arrest  him  !  "  and  he  went 
up  a  step. 

u  Back  !  "  cried  the  marquis,  lunging  fiercely  at  the 
too  adventurous  commissioner,  who  leaped  down  the 
stairway  with  the  agility  of  alarm. 

"  Fire  !  "  he  cried. 

"  Thanks,  monsieur ;  I  can  help  you  no  more  !  "  cried 
Francois.  As  he  spoke,  he  hurled  the  unhappy  Des- 
pard  on  top  of  the  commissioner.  They  fell  in  a 
heap.  The  thief,  catching  up  his  rapier,  was  off  and 
away  through  the  drawing-room,  seeing,  as  he  went, 


178  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

the  woman  lying  on  the  floor,  her  forehead  streaming 
blood.  He  picked  up  his  cloak  and  knapsack,  and, 
followed  by  Toto,  ran  for  his  life  down  a  long  corri 
dor  to  the  left.  At  the  end,  he  threw  open  a  window, 
and  dropped,  with  the  dog  under  his  arm,  upon  the 
roof  of  a  portico  over  a  side  door.  No  one  was  near. 
He  called  the  dog,  and  fled  through  the  gardens  and 
into  the  woods  of  the  chase. 


XVII 

Of  Iww  Francois,  escaping,  lives  in  the  wood;  of  liow  he 
sees  the  daughter  of  the  marquis  dying,  and  knows  not 
then,  or  ever  after,  what  it  was  that  hurt  him;  of  how 
he  becomes  homesick  for  Paris. 

]HE  forest  was  of  great  extent,  and  inter 
sected  by  wood  roads.  Along  one  of 
these  Francois  ran  for  an  hour  or  more, 
until  he  was  tired,  and  had  put,  as  he 
believed,  some  miles  between  himself 
and  the  citizen  with  the  wart.  The  way  became  more 
narrow,  the  forest  more  dense.  At  last  there  was 
only  a  broad  path.  Now  and  then  he  saw  the  north 
star,  and  knew  that  he  was  traveling  southward.  He 
came  out  at  dawn  on  an  open  space,  rocky  and  barren, 
a  great  rabbit-warren,  as  he  knew  by  the  sudden 
stampede  of  numberless  rabbits.  He  turned  aside 
into  the  woods,  and  a  few  hundred  yards  away  found 
a  bit  of  marsh,  and  beyond  it  a  brook,  with  leaf -cov 
ered  space  beneath  tall  plane-trees,  now  bare  of  foli 
age.  He  drank  deep  of  the  welcome  water,  and  sat 
down  with  Toto  to  rest  and  think. 

" Mon  ami"  he  said,  "we  like  adventures;  but  this 
was  a  little  too    much."     Then  he  laughed   at   the 

179 


180  THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANQOIS 

thought  of  Pierre's  terror ;  but  the  man  with  the  wart 
was  not  so  funny,  and  the  poor  lady  who  was  St. 
Cecilia,  and  that  cold-blooded  devil  of  a  marquis — 
"  What  a  man  !  " 

Here  were  rabbits  for  food,  and  only  a  forest  bed, 
but,  on  the  whole,  better  than  the  Conciergerie  or  the 
Chatelet.  He  slept  long,  and  was  cold,  fearing  to 
make  a  fire.  About  eleven  next  morning  he  left  Toto, 
and  went  with  care  to  the  edge  of  the  wood.  He 
heard  noises,  and  saw  boys  setting  traps ;  for  now  my 
lord's  rabbits  were  anybody's  rabbits.  The  traps 
pleased  him.  He  slipped  away.  At  evening,  being 
dreadfully  hungry,  he  went  to  the  warren,  took  two 
rabbits  out  of  the  traps,  and  went  back.  The  man's 
patience  was  amazing:  not  until  late  at  night  did  he 
make  a  fire  to  cook  his  meat ;  but  Toto,  less  exacting, 
was  fed  at  once  with  the  raw  flesh. 

A  week  went  by,  with  no  more  of  incident  than  I 
have  mentioned.  He  explored  the  woods  day  after 
day,  and  a  half-mile  away  found  a  farm,  whence  at 
night  he  took  toll  of  milk,  having  stolen  a  pail  to  aid 
him.  It  was  all  sadly  monotonous,  but  what  else 
could  he  do?  Once,  after  a  fortnight,  he  was  bold 
enough  to  wander  in  daylight  within  the  woods  near 
the  chateau.  It  was  apparently  deserted ;  at  least,  he 
saw  no  signs  of  habitation ;  nor,  later  at  night,  when 
he  went  back,  were  there  lights,  except  in  one  room  on 
the  ground  floor. 

Francois  approached  with  caution,  and,  looking 
through  a  window,  saw  an  old  man  seated  by  the  fire. 
Making  sure  that  he  was  alone,  the  wanderer  tapped  on 
the  pane.  The  man  at  the  hearthside  looked  up,  and 


"THE  WANDERER   TAPPED  OX  THE  PANE.' 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS      183 

Francois  saw,  as  he  had  suspected,  that  he  was  the 
majordomo.  Again  Francois  tapped,  and  observing 
the  inmate  move  toward  the  door,  he  hurried  thither, 
As  they  met,  Francois  hastened  to  say  that  he  was  the 
man  who  aided  the  marquis,  having  himself  had  the 
luck  to  escape.  Once  reassured,  the  old  majordomo 
urged  Francois  to  enter.  But  this  he  would  not  do. 
He  had  had  enough  of  house-traps.  In  the  forest  they 
would  be  secure.  To  this  the  servant  agreed,  and  fol 
lowed  him  at  once.  When  at  last  in  the  woodland 
shelter,  Francois  asked:  "What  of  the  marquis?" 
He  had  been  taken  by  Gregoire  toward  Paris,  but 
was  said  to  have  made  his  escape.  "  A  hard  man  to 
hold  is  my  master ;  and  as  to  the  village,  it  has  had 
to  pay  right  dearly,  too."  Pierre  had  been  arrested, 
but  was  soon  set  free.  And  the  little  gentleman  ? 
He  had  been  taken  to  a  cousin's  house  in  eastern 
Normandy.  Franc,  ois  hesitated  over  his  final  question  ; 
he  himself  could  not  have  told  why. 

"And  Mine.  Renee?"  he  exclaimed,  and  bent  for 
ward,  intent. 

"The  countess?" 

"  I  did  not  know.  Is  she  a  countess  ?  Mme.  Renee 
—what  of  her?— she  who  was  hurt.  I  passed  her; 
she  lay  on  the  upper  stair.  There  was  blood— blood. 
The  little  boy  cried  to  me  to  help  her.  My  God !  I 
could  not.  I— tell  me,  was  she  badly  hurt?" 

"  She  is  dying,  monsieur.  Something— a  gauntlet, 
they  say— struck  her  head.  She  has  known  no  one 
since." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"In  the  chateau,  with  a  maid  and  her  aunt.     She 


184:      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

was  too  ill  to  be  taken  away.  She  is  dying  to-night. 
They  say  she  cannot  last  long.  God  rest  her  soul ! 
'T  is  the  end  of  everything." 

The  thief  stood  still  a  minute ;  then  he  said  reso 
lutely,  "I  must  see  her."  This  the  old  servant  de 
clared  impossible ;  but  when  Francois  swore  that  he 
would  go  alone,  he  finally  consented  to  show  him 
the  way,  insisting  all  the  time  that  he  would  not 
be  let  in. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  moving  down  a  long 
corridor  on  the  second  floor.  All  was  dark  until  the 
majordomo  paused  at  a  door  under  which  a  line  of 
light  was  to  be  seen.  Here  he  knocked,  motioning  his 
companion  to  keep  back  a  little.  The  door  opened, 
and  a.  gaunt  middle-aged  lady  came  forth. 

"What  is  it?"  she  said. 

"  This  man — this  gentleman  would  see  the  countess." 

"What  do  you  want?"  she  said,  facing  Francois. 
"  My  niece  is  dying — murdered.  You  have  done  your 
cruel  work.  Would  you  trouble  the  dead  ? " 

"  Madame,"  said  Francois,  "  I  am  he  who  held  the 
stair  with  the  marquis.  I  am  no  Jacobin.  I  shot  the 
man  who  wounded  the  countess." 

11  You  !     He  is  dead." 

"  Thank  God  !     May  I  see  the  lady  ? " 

"She  is  dying;  why  should  you  see  her?" 

u  Madame,  I  am  a  poor  unhappy  thief.  Once  this 
lady  offered  me  help — a  chance,  a  better  life.  I  was 
a  fool ;  I  let  it  go  by.  I— let  me  see  her." 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  gentlewoman ;  and,  with  no 
more  words,  he  entered  after  her,  and  approached  the 
bed,  leaving  his  dog  outside.  What  he  beheld  he 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  185 

neither  forgot  nor,  I  believe,  save  in  his  memoirs,  ever 
spoke  of  to  any  one. 

He  saw  a  white  face  on  the  pillow ;  a  deep-red  spot 
on  each  cheek;  eyes  with  the  glaze  of  swift-coming 
death.  He  fell  on  his  knees  beside  her,  and  stayed 
motionless,  watching  the  sweat  on  the  brow,  the  breath 
quicken  and  then  stop  as  if  it  would  not  come  again. 
At  last  he  touched  the  hand.  It  was  cold,  and  he 
withdrew  his  own  hand,  shrinking  back.  He  had  seen 
death,  but  no  death  like  this.  He  said,  "Madame." 
There  was  no  answer.  He  looked  up  at  the  older 
woman.  "  She  is  dying ;  she  does  not  hear." 

"No :  nor  ever  will  in  this  world." 

He  turned,  bent  down,  and  kissed  the  fringe  of  the 
coverlet.  Then  he  arose,  shaken  by  the  strongest 
emotion  life  had  brought  to  him. 

"  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  and  moved  to  the  door. 
He  paused  outside. 

"Are  you  sure  the  beast  is  dead— the  man  who  did 
that— that?" 

"Yes." 

"I  am  sorry — sorry."  He  shook  his  long  arms  in 
the  air.  "  I  should  like  now  to  kill  him  again— 
again !  "  He  walked  swiftly  away,  and,  not  waiting 
for  the  servant,  left  the  house  and  found  his  way  back 
to  his  forest  shelter. 

All  night  long  he  sat  without  a  fire,  indifferent  to 
poor  Toto's  efforts  to  get  a  little  notice,  not  feeling  the 
cold,  a  sorely  wounded  man,  with  a  scar  on  his  mem 
ory  which  no  after  happiness  could  ever  erase. 

The  next  night  he  found  the  majordomo,  and  learned 
that  the  countess  was  dead.  He  took  away  blankets 


186      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

and  the  provisions  bountifully  supplied,  and  once 
more  rejoined  his  dog. 

In  this  manner  the  last  days  of  February  were 
passed ;  and  in  March  the  spring  began  to  appear,  but 
with  it  a  new  peril.  The  woodmen  went  here  and 
there  at  work,  and  thrice  he  narrowly  escaped  being 
seen.  Early  in  April  his  friend  the  majordomo  disap 
peared,  and  the  great  chateau  was  infested  with  men 
who  came  and  went — for  what  he  knew  not. 

He  began  to  be  troubled  with  a  feverish  desire  to 
see  the  streets  of  Paris.  At  last  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  leave  his  forest  shelter;  and  sometime  in  April, 
having  hesitated  long,  he  set  out.  He  hid  all  day  in 
woods,  and  walked  at  night,  until  he  reached  the 
Seine.  With  this  as  a  guide,  he  went  on,  robbing 
hen-houses  of  eggs,  and  milking  cows,  until  he  was 
close  to  Paris.  How  to  enter  it  he  did  not  know. 
The  times  were  doubly  dangerous.  Spies  and  suspi 
cion  were  everywhere  to  be  dreaded.  His  papers  had 
no  certifications  from  the  places  he  was  presumed  to 
have  visited.  Formidable  in  the  background  he  saw 
the  man  Gregoire,  the  commissioner  with  the  wart  of 
ill  luck. 

How  the  thief  and  his  dog  lived  near  to  Paris  in 
woods  and  fields,  there  is  no  need  to  tell  in  detail. 
The  month  of  June  was  come  in  this  year  of  17911 
Marat  was  ill,  and  Charlotte  Corday  on  her  way  to 
forestall  the  decree  of  nature.  La  Vendee  was  up. 
The  Girondists  had  fallen,  the  great  cities  of  the  South 
were  in  uproar,  the  enemy  was  on  the  frontier,  and 
the  rule  of  France  in  the  competent  and  remorseless 
hands  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety.  All  around 


THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FRANgOIS  189 

Paris  the  country  was  infested  with  wandering  people 
who,  for  the  most  part,  like  Francois,  had  good  reason 
to  fear.  There  were  beggars,  thieves,  persecuted 
nobles,  those  who  had  no  mind  to  face  the  foe  as  vol 
unteers.  Now  and  then  Francois,  ever  cautious, 
picked  up  a  little  news  on  a  scrap  of  gazette  found  by 
the  wayside.  He  read  that  Citizen  Amar  was  of  the 
Great  Committee  of  General  Security.  Francois 
laughed. 

"  Toto,  dost  thou  think  this  will  add  to  thy  master's 
security  f  That  was  the  gentleman  with  the  emigra- 
tive  mouth.  Ami,  he  is  still  alive.  They  must  be 
tough,  these  Jacobins.  What  fun,  Toto !  I  can  see 
him  pinned  to  the  door  like  a  beetle,  and  that  marquis 
with  a  face,  Toto,  like  a  white  plaster  cast  those  Ital 
ians  used  to  sell. 

'•  I  like  not  M.  Amar.  Toto,  we  are  unhappy  in  our 
acquaintances.  But  the  man  of  the  wart  is  the 
worst."  This  was  Francois's  black  beast;  why,  he 
could  not  have  said.  Amar,  h  farouche,  was  really 
a  more  fatal  foe.  The  citizen  who  dressed  neatly,  and 
wore  spectacles  over  green  eyes,  and  was  in  debt  to 
the  conjurer  for  a  not  desirable  forecast  of  fortune, 
was  a  yet  more  sinister  acquaintance.  Yet  it  was 
Citizen  Gregoire  who  came  to  Francois  in  dreams,  and 
the  bare  thought  of  whom  could  chop  short  a  laugh  as 
surely  as  Mother  Guillotine,  the  merciless. 


XVIII 

Wherein  is  told  how  Francois  r centers  Paris,  and  lodges 
with  the  Crab;  and  of  how  Toto  is  near  to  death  by  the 
guillotine.  Francois  meets  Despard  and  the  marquis, 
ivho  warns  him  and  is  warned. 

FEW  days  later,  when  lying  behind  a 
deserted  hut  at  dusk,  Francois  heard  a 
noise  of  military  music,  and  ventured 
forth  on  the  road  leading  to  the  barrier. 
Many  hundreds  of  the  wounded  from 
the  frontier  were  passing,  in  wagons  or  on  foot.  The 
communes  and  clubs  were  out  to  meet  them.  The 
cabarets  outside  of  the  gate  poured  forth  a  noisy 
company.  The  road  was  full.  Who  should  stop  the 
free  citizens  or  the  ladies  of  the  fish-market,  come 
to  welcome  patriot  volunteers?  Here  was  an  escort 
of  troops,  wild,  triumphant  greeting  of  captured 
Austrian  flags,  many  wounded  in  wagons,  many 
more  afoot,  marching  wearily.  Those  who  walked 
the  people  must  aid.  The  ranks  were  soon  broken, 
and  all  was  good-natured  tumult.  Here  was  help  for 
heroes— wine,  bread,  eager  aid  of  an  arm.  Some 
who  were  dragging  along  on  crutches,  to  get  a  little 
relief  from  jolting  wagons,  were  hoisted,  to  their  dis- 

190 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEANgOIS  191 

comfort,  on  tlie  shoulders  of  friendly  patriots  not 
eager  to  volunteer. 

Francois,  tucking  Toto  under  his  cloak,  edged 
himself  into  the  broken  ranks  of  the  heroes  of  Hond- 
schoote  and  Wattignies.  "  We  are  many,"  he  said 
to  a  man  beside  him,  as  tattered  as  he,  for  there  was 
scarcely  a  rag  of  uniform.  u  Jolly  to  get  home  again  !  " 

"  Sucre !  not  if  they  guillotined  thy  father  a  week 
ago." 

"Dame!  is  that  so?  But  patience,  and  hold  thy 
tongue,  citizen.  Toiinerre  !  my  leg."  He  was  limping. 

"  Thy  shoulder,  friend  " — to  a  blouse.  "  Tiens !  that 
is  better.  The  Austrian  bullets  have  a  liking  for  one's 
bones.  Crack !  crack !  I  can  hear  them  yet.  They 
do  not  spare  the  officers  any  more  than  they  do  the 
privates." 

Should  they  carry  the  citizen  officer — take  care  of 
his  sword  ?  Francois  thanked  them  ;  the  citizens  must 
be  careful  of  his  leg ;  and  there  was  Francois  on  the 
shoulders  of  two  big  Jacobins,  like  a  dozen  more ;  for 
it  was  who  should  help,  and  a  shouting,  good-humored 
crowd.  Francois  was  not  altogether  well  pleased  at 
his  elevation ;  he  dropped  forward  his  too  well-known 
face.  There  was  a  jam  at  the  barrier.  Had  these 
citizen  soldiers  their  passes,  as  provided?  Francois 
was  weak  ;  he  suffered,  poor  fellow  !  The  Jacobins  and 
the  women  roared  derisively:  "Passes  for  heroes?" 
All  order  was  lost.  They  were  through,  and  in  the 
Rue  d'Enf er.  Would  the  good  citizens  let  him  walk  ? 
He  was  heavy,  and  they  were  pleased  to  be  relieved 
of  one  hundred  and  ninety-five  pounds  of  wounded 
hero. 


192      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

Meanwhile  there  was  some  renewed  order  in  the 
broken  formation ;  yet  now  and  then  men  fell  out 
to  meet  sweethearts  or  friends,  usually  coming  back 
again  to  the  ranks.  The  hint  was  good. 

"  del !  comrade,  there  is  my  mother !  "  The  crowd 
gave  way  as  the  hero  hobbled  out  of  the  line.  He 
called  out :  "  Mere,  mere— mother  !  Here  !  'T  is  I 
— Adolphe.  The  deuce  !  she  is  so  deaf." 

Where  was  she  ?     Citizens  were  eager  to  help  him. 

"  Ah,"  he  cried,  "  she  saw  me  not " ;  and,  turning  into 
a  side  street  near  the  asylum,  limped  painfully  in 
pursuit  of  the  mother  who  was  afflicted  with  deafness. 
Toto  followed.  Once  around  a  corner,  the  lameness 
disappeared.  In  the  gathering  dusk  he  set  out  for 
the  Cite. 

11  It  must  be  Quatre  Pattes,  Toto.  Come  along.  A 
bad  year,  my  friend,  to  have  lost  a  father  and  a 
mother.  No  matter ;  we  are  in  Paris." 

He  loved  the  streets.  "Ah,  there  is  Notre  Dame 
and  the  river ! "  He  was  happy,  and  went  along 
laughing,  and  at  last  turned  into  a  small  cafe  near 
to  his  old  home  in  the  Rue  des  Chanteurs. 

He  was  tired  and  hungry,  and,  as  he  agreeably 
remembered,  well  off,  having  had  small  chance  to 
spend  the  money  with  which  he  had  been  generously 
provided  by  Achille  Gamel.  The  bread  and  cheese 
were  good,  and  the  wine  was  not  bad.  He  asked  for 
tobacco  and  a  pipe.  Would  the  host  find  him  "  L'Ami 
du  Peuple"?  He  was  a  sublieutenant,  wounded  on 
the  frontier ;  but,  dame !  to  get  home  was  happiness. 

Two  men  sat  down  by  him,  and  talked.  Good 
Jacobins  were  these,  in  the  dirty  uniforms  of  the 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  193 

sansculotte  army  which  kept  Paris  in  order  at  the 
rate  of  forty  sous  a  day.  "  Bad  wages,  citizen  lieu 
tenant,"  they  said. 

The  hero  of  the  frontier  was  worse  off— no  pay  for 
three  months.  He  related  his  battles ;  and  now  he 
must  go. 

"Come,  Toto."  Toto  had  been  wounded  at  Wat- 
tignies;  he  was  well  now,  and  would  be  promoted. 
li  Bon  son;  comrades."  In  fact,  he  was  wildly  gay, 
glad  to  be  back  in  Paris. 

He  paused,  at  last,  before  a  house  of  the  date  of 
Henri  II.  Its  heavy,  narrow  door,  and  a  slit  in  the 
wall  for  a  window,  told  of  days  when  every  man's 
house  was  a  fortress. 

"It  is  our  best  chance,  Toto ;  but  best  may  be  bad. 
We  must  do  something."  He  jingled  the  bell.  The 
cord  was  drawn  by  the  concierge  within,  so  as  to  lift 
the  latch,  and  Francois  entered  the  hall.  To  right 
was  the  Crab's  den,  and  there  within  was  Quatre 
Pattes.  He  saw  the  thin  purple  nose,  the  bleared  red 
eyes,  the  bearded  chin,  and  the  two  sticks. 

"  Mitte  tonnerres  !  my  child,  it  is  thou.  And  where 
hast  thou  been  ?  There  is  no  thief  like  thee.  Come 
and  laugh  for  thy  old  mother."  She  welcomed  him 
in  thieves'  slang,  vile,  profuse,  and  emphatic.  Had 
he  any  money  ?  Yes,  a  little ;  business  was  good  in 
the  provinces ;  and  would  she  house  him  ?  Here  was 
a  louis  d'or  for  maman;  and  what  was  this  abominable 
carte  de  sitrete,  this  new  trap?  She  explained.  He 
need  have  no  fear ;  she  would  get  him  one.  He  had 
been  in  bad  company,  she  had  heard ;  for  a  Jacobin 
had  told  her  of  the  fencing-school,  and  thither,  too 


194  THE  ADVENTURES  OP  FEANQOIS 

late,  she  had  gone  to  get  a  little  help.  He  had  nearly 
killed  Amar,  le  farouche,  and  that  injured  citizen  was 
said  to  desire  his  society.  But  that  was  long  ago; 
and  Paris  lived  fast,  and  was  gay,  and  forgot  easily. 

Francois  had  no  wish  to  refresh  Citizen  Amar's 
memory.  He  asked  lightly  if  she  had  ever  seen 
Gregoire,  the  commissioner  to  Normandy  ? 

Mine.  Quatre  Pattes  had  never  seen  him.  He  was 
of  the  Great  Committee— a  patriot  of  the  best,  like 
herself.  Did  he  know  Gregoire  ?  He  told  her  frankly 
that  he  had  been  arrested  by  Gregoire,  and  had 
escaped. 

"  Thou  art  the  first,  my  child  !  "  she  cried,  her  jaws 
champing  as  if  she  were  eating.  "  Thou  hast  a  fine 
taste  in  the  choosing  of  enemies.  I  would  not  be  in 
thy  skin  for  a  hundred  louis ;  and  now  a  cat  of  the 
night  thou  must  be.  I  can  hide  thee  awhile ;  and  if 
thou  dost  feed  me  well,  the  mama-crab  will  care  for 
thee.  No  one  need  know  thou  art  here.  Come,  get 
thee  a  few  louis,  and  we  will  buy  a  fine  card  of  safety, 
and  christen  thee  to  suit.  Ha,  ha !  my  little  one ! " 
and  she  beat  with  her  sticks  on  the  floor. 

Our  thief  was  now  back  in  his  garret,  having  lost 
as  many  fair  chances  of  prosperity  as  did  Murad 
the  Unlucky.  He  reflected  much  in  these  late  au 
tumn  months  of  1793,  being  for  his  wants  rich,  and 
therefore  in  no  necessity  to  give  a  thought  to  meth 
ods  of  getting  his  daily  diet.  During  the  daytime 
Quatre  Pattes  insisted  on  his  secluding  himself  in 
his  garret.  At  night  he  left  Toto  with  the  Crab, 
who  fed  him  well,  and  was  therefore  liked  by  a 
revolutionary  dog  without  prejudices.  From  these 


QUATKE  PATTES. 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FKANgOIS  197 

night  prowls  Francois  returned  with  sad  complaints 
of  the  way  the  republicans  guarded  their  slim  purses ; 
in  fact,  at  this  time  he  avoided  adventures,  stole  from 
no  one,  and  gave  of  his  lessening  store  what  barely 
contented  Mine.  Quatre  Pattes.  Were  I  to  say  that  his 
goodness  came  from  newly  acquired  views  of  life,  I 
should  mislead.  He  was  as  honest  as  ever,  which  is 
to  say  he  took  no  thought  at  all  as  to  ethical  questions. 
We  are  said  to  be  children  of  circumstance,  which 
may  be  described  as  the  environment  of  the  hour. 
This  is  true  of  the  feeble ;  but  character  was  the  more 
despotic  parent  in  this  resolute  man,  who  could  wrrestle 
strenuously  with  circumstance.  He  wras  a  Royalist 
because  he  liked  show  and  color  and  the  fine  manners 
of  the  great ;  in  the  past  he  stole  because  he  knew  no 
other  way  to  live.  His  admirable  health  was  a  con 
tribution  to  his  natural  cheerfulness.  He  still  had 
simple  likings — for  the  country,  for  animals,  and 
wrould  have  had  for  books  had  they  been  easy  to 
get,  or  had  he  known  how  to  get  those  which  would 
have  fed  his  mind  and  had  sauce  of  interest. 

His  surroundings  would  have  surely  and  hopelessly 
degraded  a  less  permanent  character,  and  a  nature 
without  his  ingrained  gaiety  would  have  taken  more 
steadily  some  thought  of  the  far  future.  He  knew 
too  well  how  the  thief's  life  ended:  the  galleys,  the 
wheel,  the  lonely  death-bed  in  the  hospital.  If  he 
reflected  on  it  at  all,  as  he  seems  to  have  done  at  this 
time,  it  was  because  of  his  long,  weary  days  in  the 
attic.  The  immediate  future  at  this  period  did  dis 
turb  him,  but  never  long.  He  liked  to  talk,  and, 
lacking  society,  talked  more  and  more  to  himself 


198  THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

aloud,  with  Toto  for  an  audience  which  never  ceased 
to  attend.  He  who  is  pleased  with  his  own  talk  can- 
iiot  easily  be  bored;  and  so  he  talked,  until  Quatre 
Pattes,  who  loved  keyholes  and  to  listen,  thought  he 
must  be  out  of  bis  head.  She  herself  was  always 
either  silent  or  boisterous,  and  was  as  to  this  like 
other  beasts  of  prey.  When  in  calamity  Francois 
was  too  busy  to  be  serious.  When  at  ease  the  mirth- 
fulness  of  his  natural  man  forbade  argument  as  to 
what  the  dice-box  of  to-morrow  would  offer ;  for  to 
laugh  is  to  hope,  and  Francois,  as  we  know,  laughed 
much,  well,  and  often. 

There  were  many  times  in  his  life  when  to  have  been 
honestly  loved  by  a  woman  capable  of  comprehending 
both  his  strength  and  his  weakness  would,  I  think, 
have  given  him  the  chance  to  live  a  better  life.  But 
how  was  this  possible  to  one  who  lived  as  he  lived— 
who  was  what  he  was? 

To  be  merely  liked  was  pleasant  to  Franyois,  and 
appealed  with  the  most  subtle  form  of  flattery  to  his 
immense  self-esteem.  The  man  was  sensitive,  and  in 
after  days,  when  in  an  atmosphere  of  refinement, 
would  never  speak  of  the  terrible  women  he  had 
known  too  well  in  the  Cite.  Having  no  longer  the 
distraction  of  the  streets,  he  was  at  present  condemned 
to  live  long  hours  with  no  society  but  that  of  Toto 
and  the  animal  Quatre  Pattes.  He  bought  a  small 
field-glass,  and  studied  the  habits  of  his  neighbors  far 
and  near,  and  once  more  took  interest  in  the  feline 
owners  of  the  ^oof-tops.  Quatre  Pattes  fed  him  well, 
and  brought  him  some  of  the  old  gazettes. 

He  read  how,  on  that  frightful  5th  of  September, 


THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FKANgOIS  199 

iiow  past,  one  of  the  five  complementary  days  of  the 
republican  calendar,  on  motion  of  Barrere,  "Terror" 
was  decreed  by  the  Convention  to  be  the  order  of  the 
day.  It  was  indeed  the  birth-hour  of  the  Terror.  The 
Great  Committee  was  in  power.  The  revolutionary 
tribunals  were  multiplied.  The  law  of  suspected  per 
sons  was  drawn  with  care  by  the  great  jurist  Merlin 
of  Douai.  Behind  these  many  man-traps  was  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety,  with  despotic  power 
over  the  persons  of  all  men,  and  in  full  control  of  the 
prisons.  To  it  the  subcommittees  reported  arrests; 
it  secured  the  prisoners  who  were  to  be  tried ;  it  saw 
to  the  carrying  out  of  all  sentences ;  it  kept  the  peace 
in  Paris  with  an  array  of  sansculottes,  and  fed  the 
guillotine  daily.  Of  this  stern  mechanism,  strong  of 
head  and  incapable  of  pity,  was  Pierre  Andre  Amar ; 
as,  one  day,  Francois  read  with  his  full  share  of  the 
Terror.  There  was  soon  enough  of  it  to  supply  all 
France. 

Before  November  came,  Francois,  pretending  to 
have  been  in  luck,  supplied  the  Crab  with  six  louis. 
She  exacted  two  more,  and  how  much  she  kept  none 
may  know.  He  had  very  few  left. 

She  was  as  good  as  her  word.  "Here,  my  little 
one,  is  the  carte  de  sitrete  from  the  committee  of  this 
section."  The  description  was  taken  from  his  pass 
port.  He  was  no  more  to  be  Francois,  but  Francois 
Beau.  If  he  would  denounce  one  or  two  people,  the 
committee  would  indorse  his  card  as  that  of  "a  good 
patriot  who  deserved  well  of  the  country."  There 
was  the  lame  cobbler  over  the  way,  who  talked 
loosely,  and  to  whom  the  Crab  owed  money;  that 


200  THE   ADVENTUEES   OF  FEANgOIS 

would  be  useful  and  convenient.  Francois  shivered 
all  down  his  long  back ;  he  would  see.  Meanwhile,  as 
he  considered,  Quatre  Pattes  twisted  her  bent  spine, 
rattled  her  two  sticks,  and  looked  up  at  him  sidewise 
with  evil  eyes,  bidding  him  have  a  care,  and  not  get 
his  good  mania  into  trouble,  or  else,  or  else — Francois 
felt  that  some  night  he  might  have  to  wring  that 
wrinkled  neck.  He  was  uneasy,  and  with  good 
reason. 

He  could  bear  the  confinement  no  longer,  and  in 
December  began  to  find  his  cash  getting  low.  He  had 
let  his  beard  grow,  and  taken  to  long,  tight  pantaloons 
and  a  red  cap.  He  felt  that,  come  what  might,  he 
must  take  the  risks  of  daylight. 

The  chances  against  him  were  small.  The  number 
less  denunciations  of  the  winter  fell  chiefly  on  the  rich, 
the  rash  in  talk,  the  foes  of  the  strong  heads  who  were 
ably  and  mercilessly  ruling  France.  The  poor,  the  ob 
scure,  and  the  cautious  bourgeoisie  were  as  a  rule  safe 
until,  in  the  spring,  something  like  a  homicidal  mania 
took  possession  of  Robespierre  and  others,  who,  al 
though  they  were  the  most  intelligent  of  the  Great 
Committee,  were  never  in  control  of  a  steady  majority, 
and  began  to  fear  for  their  own  heads. 

Outwardly  Paris  was  gay.  The  restaurateurs  made 
money ;  the  people  wrere  fed  by  levies  of  grain  on  the 
farmers ;  and  the  tumbrel,  on  its  hideous  way,  rarely 
excited  much  attention.  The  autumn  and  winter  of 
'93  were  not  without  peril  or  adventure  for  the  thief. 
The  Palais  d'Egalite,  once  royal,  was  his  favored  re 
sort,  and  with  his  well-trained  sleight  of  hand  he 
managed  to  justify  the  name  of  the  place  by  efforts 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS      201 

to  equalize  the  distribution  of  what  money  was  left  to 
his  own  advantage  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Crab. 

The  dark  drama  went  011 ;  but,  except  the  tricoteuses 
who,  like  Quatre  Pattes,  went  daily  to  see  the  guillo 
tine  at  work,  comparatively  few  attended  this  daily 
spectacle.  Paris,  wearied  of  crime  and  too  much 
politics,  was  tired  of  the  monotony  of  slaughter,  which 
had  now  no  shadow  of  excuse. 

"Would  the  citizen  miss  the  death  of  the  Austrian, 
the  ex-queen  ? "  He  would  not ;  he  knew  better  than 
to  say  no  to  Quatre  Pattes.  Would  he  go  with  her  ? 
She  could  get  him  a  good  place,  and  all  Paris  would 
be  there.  All  Paris  was  not  to  his  desire.  He  said 
he  would  go  alone.  A  walk  with  this  four-footed 
creature  and  the  rattle  of  her  becketing  sticks  he  liked 
not.  He  called  his  dog,  and,  avoiding  the  vast  assem 
blage  on  the  Place  of  the  Revolution,  found  his  way 
to  the  Rue  St.  Honore. 

He  stood  in  a  crowd  against  a  house.  The  tumbrel 
came  slowly,  and,  because  of  the  surging  mass  of 
people,  paused  opposite  to  him.  He  looked  about 
him.  In  a  group  at  a  window  on  the  far  side  of 
the  street  he  saw  a  man  apparently  sketching  the  sad 
figure  in  the  cart.  It  seemed  devilish  to  this  poor 
outcast  of  the  Cite.  His  face  flushed ;  he  asked  who 
that  was  in  the  window,  at  which  many  were  staring. 
The  man  he  addressed  was  in  black,  and  looked  to  be 
an  ex-abbe. 

"  My  son,"  he  said  quietly,  and  with  no  evidence  of 
caution— "my  son,  't  is  David  the  painter,  he  of  the 
Great  Committee.  He  hath  no  heart ;  but  in  another 
world  he  will  get  it  again,  and  then—" 


202  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

"  Take  care  !  "  said  Francois.  The  shouting  crowd 
cried :  u  Messalina !  Down  with  the  Austrian  !  " 

Francois  looked,  and  saw  the  bent  figure  seated  in 
the  cart.  Pale  it  was,  with  a  red  spot  on  each  cheek, 
haggard;  her  gray  hair  cut  close,  pitiful;  with  pen 
dent  breasts  uncorseted,  lost  to  the  horrors  of  the  in 
sults  hurled  at  her  abject  state.  Francois  moved 
away,  and  the  tumbrel  went  rumbling  on.  An  hour 
later  he  was  crossing  the  broad  Elysiau  Fields  amid 
the  scattered  crowd.  It  was  over,  and  few  cared. 
The  booths  were  selling  toy  guillotines.  Of  a  sudden 
he  missed  Toto.  He  called  him,  and,  hearing  him 
bark,  pushed  in  haste  into  a  large  tent  filled  with 
women  and  children  and  with  men  in  blouses. 

"  The  citizen  has  not  paid,"  cried  the  doorkeeper. 
Francois  saw  Toto  struggling  in  the  hands  of  a  red- 
bearded  man  who  was  crying  out :  "  Enter  !  enter ! 
Trial  and  execution  of  an  emigre  dog.  Voild,  citizens  ! 
Range  yourselves."  There  was  the  red  guillotine, 
the  basket,  the  sawdust,  and  poor  Toto  howling.  It 
was  a  spectacle  which  much  amused  the  lower  class 
of  Jacobins.  "  A  has  le  cJiien  aristocrate! " 

Francois  advanced  with  his  cheerful  smile.  "The 
citizen  is  mistaken ;  it  is  my  dog." 

"Where  is  his  carte  de  siiretef"  laughed  the  man. 
"  Up  with  him  for  trial !  " 

Four  monkeys  were  the  judges.  Jeers  and  laughter 
greeted  Francois  :  "  No,  no ;  go  on  !  " 

He  caught  the  man  by  the  arm.  The  fellow  let  fall 
Toto,  who  made  a  hasty  exit. 

"  I  denounce  thee  for  an  enemy  of  the  republic !  '> 
cried  the  showman.  "  Seize  him  !  seize  him  !  "  Fran- 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF   FRANgOIS  203 

c.ois  broke  away,  and,  using  his  long  arms,  reached 
the  entrance.  There  was  no  earnest  desire  to  stop 
him.  The  doorkeeper  caught  him  by  the  collar.  He 
kicked  as  only  a  master  of  the  savate  knows  how  to 
kick,  and,  free  of  the  grip,  called  to  Toto,  and  plunged 
into  a  crowd  which  made  no  effort  to  recapture  him. 
He  moved  with  them,  and  soon  turned  to  cross  the  river. 

Midway  on  the  bridge  he  came  face  to  face  with 
Despard.  He  was  ragged  and  fleshless,  the  shadow 
of  the  well-fed  Jacobin  he  had  last  seen  in  the  chateau 
of  Ste.  Luce. 

"  del!"  exclaimed  Francois,  "thou  art  starved." 
He  had  no  grudge  against  his  old  partner,  but  he 
fully  appreciated  the  danger  of  this  encounter. 

He  was  comforted  by  the  man's  alarm.  "Come," 
said  Francois,  and  took  him  into  a  little  drinking-shop. 
It  was  deserted  at  this  time  of  day.  He  easily  drew 
out  all  he  desired  to  know.  Mine.  Renee  was  assuredly 
dead ;  and  he  who  threw  the  gauntlet,  the  butcher, 
dead  also ;  and  three  or  more  on  the  fatal  stairway. 
Gregoire  had  punished  the  village  severely ;  heads 
had  fallen.  Pierre's  friend  Robespierre  had  aban 
doned  him,  had  even  threatened  him— Pierre  !  but  he 
had  escaped  any  \vorse  fate.  He  was  half  famished ; 
and  would  Francois  help  him?  Francois  ordered 
bread  and  cheese  and  wine.  He  would  see  what  next 
to  do.  And  what  of  the  marquis?  He  had  not  ap 
peared  in  the  lists  of  the  guillotined ;  but  he  might 
readily  have  died  unnamed,  and  escaped  Francois's 
notice. 

"  No,"  said  Pierre,  sadly  ;  "  he  lives.  Of  course  he 
lives.  The  devil  cannot  die.  He  got  away  from 


204  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRAN£OIS 

Gregoire.  Who  could  keep  that  man  ?  But  for  thee 
and  the  accursed  commissioner,  I  should  have  had 
my  revenge.  We  shall  meet  some  day." 

"  Shall  I  find  him  for  thee  ? " 

"Dame!  no.  Let  us  go  out.  I  am  uneasy;  I  am 
afraid." 

"But  of  what?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  am  afraid.  I  am  accursed  with 
fear.  I  am  afraid  as  a  man  is  in  a  dream.  Some 
where  else  I  shall  cease  to  fear.  Let  us  go."  He 
was  in  a  sweat  of  pure  causeless  terror,  the  anguish 
of  an  emotion  the  more  terrible  for  its  lack  of  reason. 
It  was  the  inexplicable  torment  of  one  of  the  forms 
of  growing  insanity.  Francois  looked  on,  amazed  and 
pitiful.  The  man's  eyes  wandered  here  and  there ; 
he  got  up,  and  sat  down  again,  went  to  the  door, 
looked  about  him,  and  came  back.  At  last,  as  Fran 
cois  began  to  consider  how  to  be  free  of  a  dubious 
acquaintance,  Pierre  said  drearily : 

11  Is  it  easy  to  die  ?  I  should  like  to  die.  If  I  were 
brave  like  thee,  I  should  drown  myself." 

"Ah,  well,"  laughed  Francois,  "there  is  the  guillo 
tine—short  and  comfortable." 

"  Thou  wilt  not  denounce  me  ? "  he  cried,  leaping 
to  his  feet.  "  I  have  my  carte;  I  will  let  thee  see  it." 
He  was  like  a  scared  child. 

"Nonsense!"  cried  Francois,  with  good-humored 
amusement.  "I  must  go.  Here  is  a  gold  louis. 
Why  dost  thou  not  rob  a  few  Jacobins?" 

"  Hush  !  I  dare  not ;  I  was  brave  once.  Thou  didst 
save  me  once ;  help  me  now.  Thou  wilt  not  let  me 
starve  ? " 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  205 

"  No,  indeed.  I  ?  Not  I.  Take  care  of  thy  louis ; 
they  are  scarce.  Meet  me  here  at  this  hour  in  a  week. 
Adieu.  At  this  hour,  mind." 

"  Art  thou  going  to  leave  me  alone  1 " 

Francois  was  grieved,  but  could  not  remain,  and 
hastened  away,  while  Pierre  looked  after  him  with 
melancholy  eyes. 

"  Come,  Toto,"  he  said,  as  he  turned  a  corner.  "  The 
man  is  mad.  Let  us  thank  the  bon  Dieu  we  never  have 
had  a  wife  ;  and  the  rest  of  our  relatives  we  have  buried 
—papa  and  mama,  and  all  the  family." 

It  was  not  in  the  man  to  forget,  and  a  week  later 
he  cautiously  entered  the  little  cafe  to  keep  his  engage 
ment.  It  was  noisy.  To  his  surprise,  he  saw  Pierre 
declaiming  lustily  to  half  a  dozen  blouses. 

"Ah  !  "  he  cried,  seeing  Francois,  "won  ami,  here  is 
a  seat.  There  is  good  news  from  the  frontier.  A 
glass  for  the  citizen."  Clink,  clink.  "  A  vous.  Death 
to  royal  rats  !  "  He  went  on  in  a  wild  way  until  the 
workmen  had  gone,  and  Francois  stopped  him  with : 

"  What  the  deuce  has  come  to  thee?" 

11  Oh,  nothing.  I  have  had  one  of  the  fits  you  know 
of;  I  am  always  better  after  them.  DiaUe!  no  mar 
quis  could  scare  me  to-day.  I  saw  him  last  week,  I 
did.  I  followed  him.  It  is  he  who  would  have  been 
scared.  I — I  missed  him  in  a  crowd.  In  a  minute  I 
should  have  had  him,  like  that,"  and  he  turned  a 
glass  upside  down  so  as  to  capture  a  fly  which  was 
foraging  on  the  table— "like  that,"  he  repeated 
triumphantly. 

Frangois  watched  him,  and  saw  a  flushed  face,  trem 
ulous  hands,  staring  eyes. 


206      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANQOIS 

"  He  is  afraid ;  he  can't  get  out " ;  and  the  man 
laughed  low,  pointing  to  his  prisoner. 

"And  thou  wouldst  have  denounced  him?"  said 
Francois. 

"Why  not?  He  is  one  of  them.  He  is  hell;  he  is 
the  devil !  I  saw  no  officers  to  help  me." 

"  Thou  art  cracked  ;  thou  wilt  denounce  me  next." 

Pierre  looked  at  Francois  with  unusual  steadiness 
of  gaze,  hesitated,  and  replied : 

"  I  thought  of  it ;  you  are  all  for  these  people." 

Francois,  in  turn,  looked  his  man  over  curiously. 
He  had  now  a  queer  expression  of  self-satisfied  ela 
tion.  "A  good  joke,  that,"  said  Francois.  "Wait  a 
moment ;  I  left  Toto  outside."  He  went  to  the  door, 
and  looked  up  and  down  the  street.  "  Wait,"  he  cried 
to  Pierre.  "  Hang  the  dog !  "  And  in  an  instant  he 
had  left  the  citizen  to  abide  his  return.  Once  in  his 
garret,  he  cried :  "  Toto,  thou  hast  no  sense.  The 
sane  scoundrels  are  bad  enough,  but  why  didst  thou 
fetch  on  me  this  crazy  rascal?  And  so  the  marquis 
got  away,  Toto.  The  man  with  the  wart  is  not  as 
clever  as  I  thought  him.  But  some  folks  have  luck." 

The  sad  winter  of  the  Terror  wore  on,  while  Fran 
cois  continued  to  live  unmolested,  and  pursued  his 
estimable  occupation  always  with  an  easy  conscience, 
but  often  with  an  uneasy  mind. 

It  was  near  the  end  of  the  pleasant  month  of  May, 
1794— the  month  Prairial  of  the  new  calendar.  The 
roses  were  in  bloom.  The  violets  were  seeking  sun 
shine  here  and  there,  half  hidden  in  the  rare  grasses 
of  the  trampled  space  of  the  Place  of  the  Revolution. 
On  the  six  bridges  which  spanned  the  canals,  its 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FKANgOlS  209 

boundaries,  children  were  looking  at  the  swans.  In 
the  middle  space,  the  scaffold  and  cross-beams  of  the 
guillotine  rose  dark  red  against  the  blue  sky  of  this 
afternoon  of  spring.  Two  imtid}r  soldiers  marched 
back  and  forth  beside  it.  The  every-day  tragedy  of 
the  morning  was  over ;  why  should  the  afternoon 
remember?  The  great  city  seemed  to  have  neither 
heart  nor  memory.  The  drum-beat  of  a  regiment 
going  to  the  front  rang  clear  down  the  Quai  des 
Tuileries.  People  ran  to  see ;  children  and  their 
nurses  left  the  swrans.  The  birds  in  the  trees  listened, 
and,  liking  not  this  crude  music,  took  wing,  and 
perched  on  the  beams  of  the  monstrous  thing  in  the 
center  of  the  Place. 

FraiKjois  crossed  the  open  ground,  with  Toto  close 
to  heel.  The  keeper  of  the  little  cafe  where  he  liked 
to  sit  had  just  told  him  that  the  citizen  with  whom 
he  had  twice  come  thither  had  been  asking  for  him, 
and  that  with  this  citizen  had  also  come  once  a  stout 
man,  who  would  know  where  Citizen  Francois  lived. 
This  last  was  of  the  fourth  section,  one  Gregoire,  a 
man  with  a  wart. 

••  Thou  didst  notice  the  man  ? "  said  Frangois,  much 
troubled. 

"Notice  him?  I  should  think  so.  Dame!  I  arn 
of  the  Midi.  A  wart  on  a  man's  nose  is  bad  luck ; 
the  mother  of  that  man  saw  a  cocatrice  egg  in  the 
barn-yard." 

"  A  cocatrice  egg !     What  the  mischief  is  that  ? " 

"  Tiens!  if  you  were  of  the  Midi,  you  would  know. 
When  a  hen  cackles  loud,  't  is  that  she  hath  laid  a 
great  egg ;  the  father  is  a  basilisk." 


210      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

11  Tonnerre!  a  basilisk  ? " 

"  Thou  must  crush  the  egg,  and  not  look,  else  there 
is  trouble;  thy  next  child  will  have  warts,  or  his 
eyebrows  will  meet,  and  then  look  out !  "  Francois's 
superstition  was  vastly  reinforced  by  this  legend. 

"Mon  Dieu!"  he  cried;  "he  hath  both."  This 
Francois  was  a  bold  man  when  he  had  to  meet  danger 
face  to  face,  but,  like  a  child  as  to  many  things,  afraid 
where  a  less  imaginative  man  would  have  been  de 
void  of  fear. 

Just  now  he  had  been  turning  over  in  his  mind  the 
chance  of  the  Crab's  betraying  him.  She  had  been 
prowling  about  his  garret,  and  had  stolen  a  well-hidden 
score  of  francs.  He  dared  not  complain.  What  scant 
possessions  he  had  would  fall  into  her  claws  if  at  any 
minute  she  might  choose  to  denounce  him.  Of  late, 
purses  were  too  well  guarded.  The  display  of  luxury 
in  lace  handkerchiefs  and  gold  seals  no  longer  afforded 
an  available  resource.  Except  Robespierre,  who  de 
fied  popular  sentiment,  few  men  carried  two  watches. 
Quatre  Pattes  had  the  appetite  of  a  winter  wolf,  and 
was  becoming  more  and  more  exacting.  She  asked 
why  he  did  not  sell  his  rapier.  If  it  were  known  that 
he  withheld  weapons  such  as  the  republic  claimed, 
there  might  be  trouble.  Why  had  he  not  given  up 
his  pistols?  They  were  gold-mounted,  and  had  be 
longed  to  a  grandee  of  Spain.  Why  not  sell  them? 
They  would  fetch  a  deal  of  money. 

He  was  not  inclined  to  part  with  his  arms,  and 
least  of  all  with  his  rapier.  At  last  he  gave  her  one 
pistol,  which  she  sold ;  the  other  he  hung  high  up  on 
a  peg  set  within  the  chimney,  having  hidden  in  its 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  211 

barrel  the  precious  little  document  he  had  captured 
from  Citizen  Grogoire  in  that  pleasant  inn  on  the 
Seine,  where  an  agreeable  evening  had  ended  with 
such  unaccountable  abruptness. 

Next  to  the  Crab's  treachery,  he  feared  most  to 
meet  Despard  when  the  Jacobin  should  chance  to  be 
in  one  of  those  aggressive  moods  which  were  so 
puzzling  to  Francois.  But  above  all  did  he  dread 
Gregoire,  and  grew  terrified  as  he  reflected  on  that 
business  of  the  cocatrice  egg  and  the  basilisk. 

It  seemed  as  though  he  were  doomed,  and  this  most 
cheery  of  men  became  distinctly  unhappy.  "  That 
sacre  basilisk ! "  he  muttered,  and,  less  on  guard 
than  usual,  wandered  on,  taking  stock  of  his  per 
plexities. 

Near  to  the  foundations  of  the  Madeleine,  where 
work  had  long  since  ceased,  he  paused  to  recreate 
himself  with  a  puppet-show.  The  vanquished  fiend 
was  Citizen  Jean  Boule.  He  was  soon  guillotined. 
The  crowd  was  merry,  and  Fraii9ois,  refreshed,  con 
tributed  his  own  share  of  appreciative  mirth.  In  the 
throng  he  unluckily  set  his  big  foot  on  the  toes  of  a 
little  Jacobin  dressed  in  the  extreme  of  the  fashions 
these  gentry  affected.  The  small  man  was  not  to  be 
placated  by  Francois's  abundant  excuses,  and  de 
manded  the  citizen's  card  of  safety.  It  was  an  every 
day  matter.  No  one  dared  to  refuse.  There  were 
half-insane  men,  in  those  times,  who  satisfied  their 
patriotism  by  continually  exacting  cards  from  timid 
women  or  from  any  well-dressed  man.  To  decline 
was  to  break  the  law.  Frangois  obeyed  with  the 
utmost  civility.  The  little  man  returned  the  card. 


212      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

"  The  citizen  is  of  the  best  of  the  sections,  but,  sacre! 
he  is  heavy." 

Much  relieved,  Francois  went  on.  In  the  Rue  St. 
Honore  the  corner  of  a  lace  handkerchief  invited  a 
transfer,  and  lace  handkerchiefs  were  rare.  As  there 
was  a  small,  well-occupied  group  looking  through  a 
shop-window  at  a  caricature  of  Mr.  Pitt,  the  occasion 
appeared  propitious,  and  the  handkerchief  changed 
owners. 

A  minute  later  a  man  touched  Francois's  shoulder. 

"  Thy  card,  citizen  !  " 

"  The  deuce  !  "  said  the  thief,  as  he  turned.  "  This 
gets  monotonous.  Mon  Dieu,  the  marquis !  "  he  ex 
claimed. 

"  Hush  !  Your  card.  You  are  followed— watched. 
There  is  this  one  chance."  Francois  produced  his 
card.  The  marquis  murmured,  "Take  care;  obey 
me."  Holding  the  card  in  his  hand,  he  called  authori 
tatively  to  a  municipal  guard  who  was  passing.  The 
man  stopped,  but  no  one  else  paused.  Curiosity  was 
perilous. 

"This  good  citizen  is  followed  by  that  man  yonder 
—the  one  with  the  torn  bonnet.  I  know  the  citizen. 
Here  is  his  card  and  mine.  Just  tell  that  fellow  to 
be  careful " ;  and  he  slipped  his  own  card  of  safety 
into  the  guard's  hand,  and  under  it  three  louis.  The 
guard  hesitated ;  then  he  glanced  at  the  card. 

"  'T  is  in  order,  and  countersigned  by  Vadier  of  the 
Great  Committee.  These  spies  are  too  busy;  I  will 
settle  the  fellow.  Good  morning,  citizens." 

They  moved  away  quietly,  in  no  apparent  haste. 
As  they  were  turning  a  corner,  the  thief  looked  back. 

"I  am  a  lost  man,  monsieur!  "     He  saw,  far  away. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OP  FRANQOIS  213 

the  man  of  the  torn  red  bonnet,  and  with  him  Quatre 
Pattes.  She  was  evidently  in  a  rage.  He  understood 
at  once,  In  the  thieves'  quarter  denunciations  were 
not  in  favor.  She  knew  too  well  the  swift  justice  of 
this  bivouac  of  outcasts  to  risk  being  suspected  as  a 
traitor  to  its  code.  The  night  before,  he  had  been 
unable  to  give  her  money,  and  had  again  refused  to 
sell  his  weapons.  She  had  angrily  reminded  him  that 
he  was  in  her  power,  and  he  had  for  the  first  time 
declared  that  he  would  let  the  Cite  settle  with  her.  He 
had  been  rash,  and  now,  too  late,  he  knew  it. 

He  hastily  explained  his  sad  case  to  the  disguised 
gentleman,  and  was  on  the  point  of  telling  him  that 
this  Quatre  Pattes  was  that  Mine.  Quintette  who  had 
once  been  his  agent,  and  would  probably  be  an  enemy 
not  to  be  despised.  He  glanced  at  the  marquis,  and, 
wisely  or  not,  held  his  tongue. 

"  A\7e  must  part  here,"  said  the  gentleman.  He  had 
hesitated  when  chance  led  him  to  the  neighborhood  of 
the  thief  in  trouble ;  but  he  was  a  courageous  man, 
and  disliked  to  owe  to  an  inferior  any  such  service  as 
Francois  had  more  than  once  rendered  him.  Vadier's 
sign  manual  on  his  own  card  of  safety  was  an  unques 
tioned  assurance  of  patriotism ;  it  had  cost  him  a 
round  sum,  but  it  had  its  value. 

When  he  said,  "I  must  leave  you,"  the  thief  returned  : 

"I  am  sorry,  monsieur;  I  know  not  what  to  do  or 
where  to  go." 

"  Nor  I,"  replied  Ste.  Luce,  coldly.  "  Nor,  for  that 
matter,  a  thousand  men  in  Paris  to-day."  He  had 
paid  a  debt,  and  meant  to  be  rid  of  a  disreputable 
and  dangerous  acquaintance.  "  Better  luck  to  you  !  " 
he  added. 


214  THE   ADVENTUEES   OF   FRANgOIS 

"  May  I  say  to  monsieur,  who  has  helped  me,  that 
Despard  is  in  Paris,  and  has  seen  him  ? " 

The  marquis  turned.  u  Why  did  not  you  kill  him 
when  you  had  the  chance  ? " 

"  You  forbade  me." 

"That  is  true  — quite  true.  Had  you  done  it  with 
out  asking  me,  I  had  been  better  pleased." 

"  I  had  no  grudge  against  him." 

"Well,  well,  thank  you,  my  man;  I  can  look  out 
for  myself." 

"  Will  monsieur  accept  the  gratitude  of  a  poor  devil 
of  a  thief?" 

"Oh,  that  is  all  right.  One  word  more.  It  is  as 
well  to  tell  you,  my  man,  how  I  came  to  speak  to 
you.  When  first  I  observed  you,  as  I  fell  behind,  I 
saw  that  terrible  old  witch  with  two  sticks  pointing 
you  out  to  the  fellow  with  the  torn  cap ;  then  he  fol 
lowed  you." 

"  It  was  Quatre  Pattes,  monsieur.  I  lodge  in  her 
house." 

"A  good  name,  I  should  say.  I  wish  you  better 
luck  and  safer  lodgings.  Adieu  "  ;  and  he  went  quietly 
on  his  way. 


XIX 


Of  the  sorrowful  life  of  loneliness,  of  Francois's  arrest, 
and  of  those  he  met  in  prison. 

RANgOIS  stood  still.  He  was  alone, 
and  felt  of  a-  sudden,  as  never  before, 
the  solitude  of  an  uncompanioned  life. 
The  subtle  influence  of  the  Terror  had 
begun  to  sap  the  foundations  of  even 
his  resolute  cheerfulness.  It  was  this  constancy  of 
dread  which  to  some  natures  made  the  terrible  cer 
tainties  of  the  prisons  a  kind  of  relief.  Ho  looked 
after  the  retreating  figure  as  it  moved  along  the  quai 
and  was  lost  to  view  in  the  Rue  des  Petits-Augustines. 
"  Toto,"  he  said,  "  I  w^ould  I  had  his  clever  head. 
When  7t  is  a  question  of  hearts,  Dion  ami,  I  would 
rather  have  thine.  And  now,  what  to  do?"  At  last 
he  moved  swiftly  along  the  borders  of  the  Seine,  and 
soon  regained  his  own  room.  The  Crab  would  go  to 
the  afternoon  market ;  her  net  swung  over  her  arm  at 
the  time  he  had  seen  her ;  and,  as  she  always  moved 
slowly,  he  had  ample  leisure. 

He  packed  his  bag,  and  taking  from  his  pistol  the 
paper  he  had  secured  when  in  company  with  Gregoire, 
replaced  it  under  the  lining  of  his  shoe.     Its  value  he 
i»  215 


216 

very  well  knew.  After  a  moment's  reflection,  he  put 
his  pistol  back  on  the  peg  high  up  in  the  chimney. 
He  had  been  in  the  house  nearly  an  hour,  and  was 
ready  to  leave,  when  he  heard  feet,  and  a  knock  at 
the  locked  door.  A  voice  cried : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  republic,  open !  "  He  knew 
that  he  was  lost. 

"  Dame!  Toto.  We  are  done  for,  my  little  one  " ; 
and  then,  without  hesitation,  he  opened  the  door. 
Three  municipals  entered.  One  of  them  said : 

"We  arrest  thee,  citizen,  as  an  emigre  returned." 

"  Emigre! "  and  he  laughed  in  his  usual  hearty  way. 
"If  I  had  been  that,  no  one  would  have  caught  me 
back  in  France.  Ah,  well,  I  am  ready,  citizen.  Here 
is  an  old  rapier.  The  woman  will  sell  it ;  better  to 
give  it  to  thee  or  to  the  republic."  He  took  up  his 
slender  baggage,  and  followed  them.  When  they 
were  down-stairs,  he  asked  leave  to  see  the  Crab. 
The  guard  called  her  out  of  her  den. 

"  Chere  maman"  said  Francois,  "  this  is  thy  doing. 
These  good  citizens  have  my  rapier,  and  the  pistol  is 
gone.  Not  a  sou  is  left  thee.  Thou  hast  killed  the 
goose  that  laid  the  golden  eggs.  Alas  !  " 

The  Crab  rattled  her  claws  on  the  sticks,  and  these 
on  the  floor,  and  spat  vileness  of  thieves'  slang,  de 
claring  it  a  wicked  lie.  Would  they  take  the  silver- 
hilted  sword?  It  was  hers,  and  he  owed  her  rent. 
At  last,  laughing,  the  guards  secured  the  thief's 
hands  behind  his  back,  and  marched  him  away  to 
the  revolutionary  committee  of  the  section  Franklin. 
Here  no  time  was  lost  with  the  6migr6,  who  was  sent 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEANgOIS  217 

off  in  a  hurry  to  the  prison  of  the  Madelonnettes,  with 
poor  Toto  trotting  after  him,  much  perplexed  by  the 
performance. 

Francois  was  astounded  at  the  celerity  and  certainty 
of  the  methods  by  which  he,  a  free  Arab  of  the  streets, 
was  thus  caged.  As  usual,  it  acted  on  his  sense  of 
humor,  and  before  the  dreaded  sectional  tribunal  and 
with  the  municipals  he  was  courageously  merry. 
When  he  heard  that  he  was  to  be  sent  to  the  Made 
lonnettes,  he  said : 

"But,  citizens,  I  am  not  of  the  sex.  Mon  Dieu! 
the  Madelonnettes !  'T  is  not  respectable — 't  is  not 
decent " ;  and  he  laughed  outright.  As  no  man  was 
ever  so  made  as  to  be  protected  from  the  infection 
of  such  mirth  as  the  thief's,  the  judges  laughed  in 
chorus.  One  of  them,  disturbed  in  his  slumber, 
awoke,  and  seeing  no  cause  for  this  long-visaged  flap- 
ear  so  to  mock  the  justice  of  the  republic,  he  said  : 

"  Thou  wilt  not  laugh  long,  miserable  aristocrat ! " 

This  much  delighted  Francois.  "  By  St.  Jacobus, 
citizen,  I  swear  to  thee  I  am  only  an  honest  thief.  I 
did  not  expect  to  be  made  of  the  fine  nobility  by  a 
good  democrat  like  thee." 

"  Off  with  him  !  "  said  the  judge.  "  They  laugh  best 
who  laugh  last." 

"No,  no,"  cried  the  incorrigible;  "they  laugh  best 
who  laugh  most.  Au  revoir." 

"  Take  him  away !     The  next  case." 

The  thief  was  gay,  and  amused  the  officers;  but 
his  keen  senses  were  now  all  on  guard,  and,  too,  like 
others,  he  felt  relieved  at  the  ending  of  his  life  of 


218        THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FBANgOIS 

suspense  and  watchful  anxiety.  His  misfortune  was 
plainly  due  to  the  avarice  and  needs  of  the  Crab,  and 
to  her  belief  that  he  had  ceased  to  be  available  as  a 
means  of  support. 

There  was  a  little  delay  at  the  front  of  the  old 
house  of  detention ;  some  formalities  were  to  be  gone 
through  with.  Fra.nc.ois  took  careful  note  of  it  all. 
The  prison  stood  in  the  Rue  des  Fontaines :  a  gray 
stone  building,  with  a  lofty  story  on  the  first  floor, 
and,  above,  three  stories  and  an  attic :  a  high  wall  to 
left  shut  in  the  garden. 

On  entering  a  long,  dark  corridor,  his  bonds  were 
removed,  his  bundle  was  searched,  and  what  little 
money  he  had  was  scrupulously  restored  to  him.  He 
was  stripped  and  examined,  even  to  his  shoes ;  but  as 
the  tongue  of  leather  was  loose  only  at  the  toes,  the 
precious  document  escaped  a  very  rigorous  search. 
Poor  Toto  had  been  left  outside,  despite  Francois's 
entreaties.  In  the  cell  to  which  he  was  consigned 
were  eight  straw  mattresses.  He  arranged  his  small 
baggage,  and  was  told  he  was  free  to  go  whither  he 
would  above  the  rez-de-cJiaussee,  which  was  kept  for 
forgers  of  assignats  and  thieves.  The  corridor  was 
some  fifty  feet  long,  and  smelt  horribly.  On  the  main 
floor  was  the  common  dining-room.  A  separate  stair 
case  led  to  a  garden  of  considerable  size,  planted  with 
box  and  a  few  quince-  and  other  fruit-trees.  At  night 
two  municipals  guarded  this  space,  while,  outside,  the 
steps  of  sentries  could  be  heard  when  the  hours  of 
darkness  brought  their  quiet.  At  9  P.  M.  the  prisoners, 
who  assembled  in  the  large  hall,  answered  to  their 
names ;  a  bell  rang,  and  they  were  locked  in  their 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FEANgOIS  219 

cells,  or  slept  as  they  could  in  the  corridors.  The 
richer  captives  were  taxed  to  support  their  poor 
companions,  and  even  to  buy  and  feed  the  mastiffs 
which  roamed  at  night  in  the  garden. 

Much  of  all  this  Francois  learned  as  he  arranged 
his  effects  and  talked  gaily  with  the  turnkey,  one 
Vaubertrand,  a  watchful  but  not  unkindly  little  man. 
Thus  informed,  Francois,  curious  as  usual,  went  down 
the  corridor,  and  out  into  the  garden.  Here  were 
quite  two  hundred  men  and  women,  some  in  careful, 
neat  dress,  many  in  rags.  He  saw,  as  he  looked, 
cures,  ladies,  seamstresses,  great  nobles,  unlucky 
colonels,  and,  as  he  learned  later,  musicians,  poets; 
and,  to  his  surprise,  for  he  knew  the  theaters, 
actors  such  as  Fleury,  Saint-Prix,  and  Champville, 
whose  delicious  laughter  the  Comedie  Franchise  knew 
so  well.  Here,  too,  were  Boulainvilliers,  De  Crosne, 
and  Dozincourt,  the  ex-kings  and  heroes  of  the  comic 
stage ;  and  there,  in  a  group  apart,  the  fine  gentles 
and  dames  who  had  exchanged  Versailles  and  the 
Trianon  for  this  home  of  disastrous  fortunes. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  turnkey ;  "the  citizen  is  right;  't  is 
a  droll  menagerie,"  and  so  left  him. 

Francois  looked  at  the  walls  and  chained  dogs,  and 
knew  at  once  that  the  large  numbers  in  the  prison 
made  impossible  that  solitude  in  which  plans  of 
escape  prosper.  For  a  while  no  one  noticed  him  so 
far  as  to  speak  to  him.  The  ill-clad  and  poor  kept  to 
one  side  of  the  garden ;  on  the  other,  well-dressed 
people  were  chatting  in  the  sun.  Women  were  sew 
ing  ;  a  young  man  was  reciting  verses ;  and  De  Crosne, 
with  the  child  of  the  concierge  on  his  lap,  was  telling 


220  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FKANgOIS 

fairy-tales.  Ignorant  of  the  etiquette  of  the  prison, 
Francois  wandered  here  and  there,  not  observing  that 
he  was  stared  at  with  surprise  as  he  moved  among 
the  better  clad  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  yard.  He 
was  interested  by  what  he  saw.  How  quiet  they  all 
were !  what  fine  garments !  what  bowing  and  cour- 
tesying!  He  liked  it,  as  he  alwajTs  liked  dress  and 
color,  and  the  ways  of  these  imperturbable  great  folks. 
Beyond  this  his  reflections  did  not  go;  nor  as  yet  had 
he  been  here  long  enough  to  note  how,  day  by  day, 
some  gentleman  disappeared,  or  some  kindly  face  of 
woman  was  seen  no  more.  What  he  did  observe  was 
that  here  and  there  a  woman  or  a  man  sat  apart  in 
self-contained  grief,  remembering  those  they  had  lost. 
The  thief  moved  on,  thoughtful. 

At  this  moment  he  heard  "DiaWe!"  and  saw  the 
Marquis  de  Ste.  Luce.  "  What !  and  have  they  trapped 
you,  my  inevitable  thief?  I  myself  was  bagged  and 
caged  just  after  I  left  you.  We  are  both  new  arrivals. 
Come  aside  with  me." 

Francois  followed  him,  saying  he  was  sorry  to  find 
the  marquis  here. 

"It  was  to  be,  sooner  or  later;  and  I  presume  it 
will  not  last  long.  I  was  careless ;  and,  after  all, 
Francois,  it  was  my  fate— my  shadow.  A  man  does 
many  things  to  amuse  himself,  and  some  one  of  them 
casts  a  lengthening  shadow  as  time  goes  on.  The 
shadow — my  shadow — well,  no  matter.  We  all  have 
our  shadows,  and  at  sunset  they  lengthen." 

"  'T  is  like  enough,  monsieur.  'T  is  like  me.  There 
is  a  man  with  a  wart  I  am  afraid  of,  and  it  is  because 
of  that  wart.  The  man  is  a  drunken  fool." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  221 

"Despard  is  my  wart,"  said  the  marquis,  dryly. 
"As  to  being  afraid,  my  good  Francois,  I  never  had 
the  malady,  not  even  as  a  boy." 

u  I)<nnt>!  I  have  it  now ;  and  to  get  out  of  this  is 
impossible." 

"  I  think  so.     Did  you  mention  Despard?" 

"No ;  it  was  monsieur  spoke  of  him." 

"  Quite  true — quite  true.  He  found  me  at  last. 
Confound  the  fellow !  I  did  not  credit  him  with 
being  clever." 

"  So  this  is  his  man  with  a  wart  ? "  thought  Francois, 
but  made  no  comment.  He  had  not  fully  compre 
hended  the  simile  with  which  this  impassive  seigneur 
illustrated  the  fact  that  but  one  of  his  many  misdeeds 
had  cast  on  his  future  a  lengthening  shadow  of  what 
he  would  have  hesitated  to  call  remorse. 

"Francois,"  he  said,  "you  and  I  are  new  additions 
to  this  queer  collection.  I  may  as  well  warn  you 
that  even  here  spies  abound.  Why?  The  deuce 
knows.  Barn-yard  fowls  are  not  less  considered 
than  are  we.  It  is  the  tribunal  one  day;  then  the 
Conciergerie ;  and  next  day,  affaire  finie,  the  business 
is  over.  Meanwhile,  you  are  in  the  best  society  in 
France.  There  are  M.  de  la  Ferte,  the  Comte  de 
Mirepoix,  the  Due  de  Levis,  the  Marquis  de  Floury. 
I  used  to  think  them  dull ;  calamity  has  not  sharp 
ened  their  wits.  Diable!  but  you  are  welcome."  The 
marquis  had  all  his  life  amused  himself  with  small 
regard  to  what  was  thought  of  him  or  his  ways  of 
recreation.  "  'T  is  a  bit  of  luck  to  find  you  here  in 
this  hole."  Francois  could  hardly  agree  with  the 
opinion,  but  he  laughed  as  he  said  so. 


222  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

"Here  comes  my  old  comrade,  De  Laval  Mont- 
morency.  He  is  still  a  gay  jester.  He  says  we  are 
like  Saul  and  that  other  fellow,  Jonathan,  except  that 
in  death  we  shall  both  of  us  to  a  certainty  be  divided." 

"  del!  't  is  a  ghastly  joke,  monsieur." 

"  It  has  decidedly  a  flavor  of  the  locality.  I  must 
not  play  telltale  about  you,  or  they  will  put  you  in 
the  rez-de-chausst'e,  and,  by  St.  Denis !  I  should  miss 
you.  I  shall  have  a  little  amusement  in  perplexing 
these  gentlemen.  Your  face  will  betray  you ;  it  used 
to  be  pretty  well  known.  However,  we  shall  see." 

The  nobleman  last  named  threaded  his  way  through 
the  crowd,  excusing  himself  and  bowing  as  he  came. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "Ste.  Luce,  another  new  arrival. 
The  hotel  is  filling  up.  Good  morning,  monsieur. 
Grand  merci!  't  is  onr  old  acquaintance  who  used  to 
tell  fortunes  on  the  Champs  Elysees ;  told  mine  once, 
but,  alas !  did  not  warn  me  of  this.  Well,  well,  we 
have  here  some  queer  society.  Take  care,  Ste.  Luce ; 
this  citizen  may  be  a  spy,  for  all  thou  kuowest.  I 
assure  thee  we  have  to  be  careful." 

"I— I  a  moucliard — a  spy?" 

"M.  de  Montmorency  has  no  such  idea,"  said  Ste. 
Luce.  "  I  shall  ask  him  to  respect  your  desire  to  be 
known  by  a  name  not  your  own.  Permit  me  to  add 
that  I  have  less  reason  to  thank  some  of  my  friends 
than  I  have  to  thank  this  gentleman.  He  is  pleased 
to  have  mystified  Paris  for  a  wager,  or  no  matter 
what.  Just  now  he  is— what  the  deuce  is  it  you  call 
yourself  at  present  ? " 

Francois  was  delighted  with  the  jest:  "Allow  me, 
monsieur,  to  pass  as  Citizen  Francois.  My  real 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS  223 

name—  But  you  will  pardon  mo;  real  names  are 
dangerous." 

"And  what  are  names  to-day/7  said  the  marquis, 
"  thine  or  mine  ?  My  friend  here— well,  between  us, 
Montmorency,  this  is  he  who  held  the  stair  with  me 
in  my  ci-devant  chateau.  Thou  wilt  remember  I  told 
thee  of  it.  A  good  twenty  minutes  we  kept  it  against 
a  hundred  or  so  of  my  grateful  people.  He  is  the 
best  blade  in  Paris,  and,  foi  d'hon-neur,  that  business 
was  no  trifle." 

"Who  you  are,  or  choose  to  be,  I  know  not,"  said 
the  older  noble,  "  but  I  thank  you ;  and,  pardieu!  Ste. 
Luce  is  free  with  your  biography." 

This  was  Francois's  opinion. 

No  one  knew  distinctly  who  was  this  newcomer, 
concerning  whom,  for  pure  cynical  amusement,  Ste. 
Luce  said  so  much  that  was  gracious.  Any  freshly 
gay  companion  was  welcomed,  if  his  manners  were  at 
all  endurable.  The  actors  and  actresses  were  pleas 
antly  received.  The  few  who  remembered  the  long 
face,  and  ears  like  sails,  and  the  captivating  laugh  of 
the  former  reader  of  palms,  were  so  bewildered  by 
Ste.  Luce's  varied  statements  that  the  poor  thief 
found  himself  at  least  tolerated.  He  liked  it.  Never 
theless,  as  the  days  went  by,  and  while  seemingly 
the  gayest  of  the  gay,  Francois  gave  serious  thought 
to  the  business  of  keeping  his  head  on  his  shoulders. 
He  told  fortunes, — always  happy  ones, — played  tricks, 
and  cut  out  of  paper  all  manner  of  animals  for  the 
little  girl,  the  child  of  the  turnkey.  Toto  he  gave  up 
for  lost ;  but  on  the  fourth  day  the  dog,  half  starved, 
got  a  chance  when  a  prisoner  entered.  He  dashed 


224      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

through  the  guards,  and  fled  up  stairs  and  down, 
until,  seeing  his  master  in  the  big  hall,  he  ran  to  him, 
panting.  The  head  jailer  would  have  removed  him, 
but  there  was  a  great  outcry ;  and  at  last,  when  little 
Annette,  Francois's  small  friend,  cried,  the  dog  was 
allowed  to  remain. 

He  was,  as  the  marquis  declared,  much  more  inter 
esting  than  most  of  the  prisoners,  and  possessed,  as 
he  added,  the  advantage  over  other  prisoners  of  being 
permanent.  In  fact,  they  were  not.  Every  day  or 
two  came  long  folded  papers.  The  ci-devant  Baron 
Bellefontaine  would  to-morrow  have  the  cause  of 
his  detention  considered  by  Tribunal  No.  3.  Wit 
nesses  and  official  defenders  had  been  allowed ;  but 
of  late,  and  to  emigres,  these  were  often  denied.  Also, 
witnesses  were  scarce  and  easily  terrified,  so  that 
batches  of  merely  suspected  persons  were  condemned 
almost  unheard.  To  be  tried  meant  nearly  always 
the  Conciergerie  and  death.  All  cases  were  supposed 
to  be  tried  in  the  order  of  their  arrests ;  but  great  sums 
were  spent  in  paying  clerks  to  keep  names  at  the  foot 
of  the  fatal  dockets  of  the  committee.  The  members 
of  this  terrible  government  survived  or  died  with 
much  judicial  murder  on  their  souls;  but  countless 
millions  passed  through  their  hands  without  one  man 
of  them  becoming  rich.  Elsewhere,  with  the  lower 
officers,  gold  was  an  effective  ally  when  it  was  desired 
to  postpone  the  time  of  trial. 


XX 


Of  Jwiv  Francois  gave  Amar  advice,  and  of  how  the 
marquis  bought  his  own  head. 

was  now  about  May  26,  when,  at 
evening,  a  commissioner  in  a  cocked 
hat,  much  plumed  and  scarfed,  came 
into  the  dining-hall.  Toto  was  between 
his  master's  knees,  and  was  being  fed. 
Francois  heard  a  gray-haired  old  lady  exclaim  to  a 
neighbor :  "  Mon  Dieu!  cherie,  look !  'T  is  the  Terror 
in  person." 

The  actor  Champville  cried  out  gaily:  "I  must 
practise  that  face.  'T  is  a  fortune  for  the  villain  of  a 
play.  If  ever  I  get  out,  it  will  be  inestimable."  Alas  ! 
he  was  in  the  next  day's  list,— the  corvee,  they  called 
it,— and  came  no  more  to  table.  Francois  looked  up, 
caught  a  glimpse  of  that  relentless  visage,  and  dropped 
his  head  again  over  the  slender  relics  of  a  not  bounti 
ful  meal.  It  was  Jean  Pierre  Amar ! 

The  marquis  looked  up  from  his  plate,  but  made 
110  effort  to  conceal  himself.  Amar  walked  around 
the  table.  Now  and  then  his  mouth  wandered  to 
left.  It  was  comical,  and  yet  horribly  grotesque.  He 
seemed  to  notice  no  one,  and  went  out  to  make  his 

225 


226      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

inspection.  Presently  a  turnkey  came  and  touched 
Francois's  shoulder. 

"  The  citizen  commissioner  would  see  thee." 

"I  am  ruined — done  for!"  murmured  the  thief; 
and,  followed  by  Toto,  he  went  after  the  turnkey. 
In  the  room  used  as  a  registering-office,  Amar,  1e 
farouche,  sat  handling  a  paper. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said.  "  Citizen  turnkey,  leave  the  sus 
pect  with  me,  and  close  the  door."  The  commissioner 
laid  a  pair  of  pistols  on  the  table,  and  looked  up  at 
Francois. 

"  Well,  citizen,  we  are  met  again.  I  am  free  to  say 
that  I  had  careful  search  made  for  thee,  and  now 
good  fortune  has  brought  hither  not  thee  alone,  but 
that  infernal  ci-devant  who  pinned  me  like  a  butterfly." 
As  he  spoke  there  was  something  fascinating  in  the 
concentration  of  emotion  on  the  active  side  of  this 
unnatural  face.  Francois  felt  the  need  to  be  careful. 

"  Why  the  devil  don't  you  speak  ? " 

"  Will  the  citizen  kindly  advise  me  what  answer  it 
will  be  most  prudent  to  make?"  And  for  comment 
on  his  own  words,  which  altogether  pleased  him,  a 
pleasant  smile  drifted  downward  over  his  large  fea 
tures. 

"  Sacre !  but  thou  art  a  queer  one,  and  no  fool,"  said 
the  Jacobin.  "  Thou  wilt  be  dead  before  long ;  a  mon 
strous  pity !  I  would  give  my  place  for  thy  laugh.'' 

("T  is  a  bargain  to  my  mind.  Let  us  change.  I 
shall  set  thee  free  at  once—  at  once,  citizen  commis 
sioner  •  I  bear  no  malice." 

Amar,  silent  for  a  moment,  stroked  his  nose  with 
thumb  and  finger. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  227 

"Thou  dost  not  remind  me  thou  didst  save  my 
life." 

"  No ;  what  is  the  use  ? " 

"Use?     Why  not?" 

"  Because  men  like  the  citizen  commissioner  do  not 
lightly  change.  I  have  a  too  plain  recollection  of 
what  I  was  promised  in  return  for  my  benevolence. 
I  should  regret  it  except  for — 

"  For  what  ? "  said  Amar. 

Then  Francois  rose  to  the  height  of  his  greatness. 

11 1  am  a  Frenchman,  even  if  I  am  not  of  thy  party. 
Had  not  the  country  needed  thee,  that  day  had  been 
thy  last.  Citizen,  as  a  man  thou  wouldst  set  me  free  ; 
as  a  patriot  thou  wilt  bow  to  the  law  of  the  republic. 
I  am  willing  to  die  rather  than  soil  the  record  of  one 
to  whom  France  owes  so  much."  An  overwhelming 
solemnity  of  aspect  came  upon  this  comedian's  face 
as  it  met  the  gaze  of  the  commissioner.  "  Alas !  the 
country  has  few  such  citizens." 

"  Tonnerre!  True— true;  it  is  sad."  The  man's 
vanity  was  excelled  only  by  that  of  the  prisoner  be 
fore  him.  Francois  had  personal  appreciation  of  the 
influential  value  of  the  bait  he  cast.  A  great  diplo 
matist  of  the  older  type  was  lost  when  Francois  took 
to  the  war  against  society  in  place  of  that  against 
nations. 

"  If  the  citizen  commissioner  has  no  more  need  of 
me,  I  will  go.  To  waste  his  time  is  to  waste  the  genius 
of  France."  Not  for  nothing  had  Francois  been  of 
late  in  the  society  of  the  Comedie  Franchise. 

"  Tiens!  Who  told  thee  to  go!  I  desire  to  do  my 
own  thinking.  Why  art  thou  here  ? " 


228  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

Francois  laughed,  but  made  no  other  reply. 

"Young  man,  art  thou  laughing  at  the  Revolu 
tionary  Tribunal  ? " 

"  Thou  art  also  laughing,  monsieur."  When  Fran- 
Qois  laughed,  he  who  looked  at  him  laughed  also. 

"  Diable!  yes.  What  right  hast  thou  to  make  an 
officer  of  the  Great  Committee  laugh?  Thou  wilt  get 
into  trouble." 

"  I  am  in  it  now,  monsieur — up  to  the  neck." 

"  No  '  monsieur '  to  me,  aristocrat !  What  brought 
thee  here  ?  " 

"A  greedy  woman  denounced  me.  Could  not  I 
denounce  her  in  turn  ?  " 

"  Hort  du  (liable!  that  is  a  fine  idea— to  let  the 
denounced  also  denounce.  It  would  make  things 
move.  I  will  mention  that  to  Couthon."  The  half 
of  the  face  that  was  able  to  express  emotion  manu 
factured  a  look  of  ferocious  mirth ;  but  it  was  clear 
that  he  took  the  proposition  seriously. 

"  It  appears  that  we  do  not  go  fast  enough,  citizen," 
said  Francois.  "  In  April,  257 ;  in  May,  so  far,  only 
308.  So  say  the  gazettes.  What  if  we  denounce 
Citizens  Robespierre  and  Vadier?  We  might  go 
faster.  Let  us  denounce  everybody,  and,  last,  the 
devil." 

Amar  set  an  elbow  on  the  table,  and,  with  his  chin 
in  his  hand,  considered  this  novel  specimen  of  hu 
manity. 

Francois  had  a  controlling  idea  that  what  chance 
of  safety  there  was  lay  in  complete  abandonment  to 
the  natural  recklessness  of  his  ever-dominant  mood 
of  humor. 


-AilAK  CCXN'SIDEKED   '1'UIS  XOVEL  SPECIMEN  OF  liCilAXITY.' 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FKANQOIS  231 

11  Art  thou  at  the  end  of  thy  nonsense,  idiot?"  said 
the  Jacobin. 

"  Xot  quite ;  the  citizen  might  denounce  himself." 

"  By  all  the  saints  !  Art  making  a  jest  of  me — me, 
Jean  Pierre  Ainar?  Thou  must  value  thy  head  but 
little." 

"  Dame!  it  was  never  worth  much  ;  and  as  to  saints, 
one  Citizen  Montmorency  said  yesterday  that  the 
republic  hath  abolished  the  noblesse  of  heaven  and 
earth  too.  Droll  idea,  citizen";  and  he  laughed 
merrily. 

"  Oh,  quit  that  infernal  laughing !  Thou  must  be 
of  the  Comedie  Franchise." 

"No ;  I  am  of  the  comedy  of  France,  like  the  rest 
—like  the  commissioner ;  but  the  citizen  has  two  ears 
for  a  joke." 

"I— I  think  so";  and  he  made  it  manifest  by  a 
twisted,  unilateral  grin  of  self-approval.  "  That  idea 
of  the  citizen — prisoners  denouncing — I  shall  not 
forget  that.  Wilt  thou  serve  the  republic  ? " 

"Why  not?" 

"  These  common  spies  in  the  prisons  are  useless.  I 
will  put  an  i  M '  to  thy  name  on  our  list ;  '  M '  for  tnou- 
cliard—spy.  That  will  put  thee  down  at  the  bottom 
whenever  the  Committee  of  Safety  comes  to  thy 
case.  I  am  not  ungrateful." 

"Very  good,"  said  Franyois,  promptly.  "I  am  as 
honest  a  Jacobin  as  the  best.  I  will  serve  the  republic, 
citizen,  to  the  best  of  my  ability." 

"  Then  thou  wilt  report  once  a  week,  especially  on 
the  ci-demnts.  The  head  keeper  will  give  thee  pen, 
ink,  and  paper,  and  a  chance  to  write  here  alone.  I 


232      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

will  so  order  it.  But  beware,  citizen !  I  am  not  a 
man  to  trifle  with ;  I  do  not  forget." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  Francois,  humbly. 

"  And  when  Grogoire  comes,  in  June,  thou  wilt  re 
port  to  him." 

"  I — Gregoire — report — " 

"Certainly.  What  's  the  matter?  Off  with  thee 
now.  Ah,  that  sacre  Citizen  Ste.  Luce  !  I  forgot  him. 
Tell  him  his  case  will  come  on  shortly." 

"  I  am  sorry." 

"  That  is  to  lack  patriotism." 

"But  he  and  De  Crosne  are  the  only  people  who 
amuse  me,  and  it  is  dull  in  this  bird-cage.  He  swears 
thou  art  clumsy  with  the  small  sword." 

"I— I  clumsy !  I  should  like  to  catch  him  some 
where.  I  was  too  fat ;  but  now ! "  and  he  smote  his 
chest.  "Didst  thou  think  me  clumsy— me,  Pierre 
Amar?" 

"I?  No,  indeed.  These  aristocrats  think  no  one 
else  can  handle  a  rapier.  Ah,  if  I  could  fence  with 
the  citizen  commissioner  a  little,  and  then— 

"  Impossible." 

"He  swears  thou  art  coward  enough  to  use  the 
guillotine  to  settle  a  quarrel,  and  that  thou  dost  fence 
like  a  pigsticker." 

Amar,  le  farouche,  swore  an  oath  too  blasphemous 
to  repeat.  The  great  thick-lipped  mouth  moved  half 
across  so  much  of  his  face  as  could  move  at  all.  He 
was  speechless  with  rage,  and  at  last  gasped,  as  he 
struck  the  table:  "Me — Amar?  Ah,  I  should  like 
well  to  let  him  out  and  kill  him ;  and  I  would,  too, 
but  there  are  Saint-Just,  and  Couthon,  and  the  rest. 
Goj  and  take  care  how  thou  dost  conduct  thyself. 


THE  ADVENTUKES   OF  FKANgOIS  233 

Go  !  The  sacre  marquis  must  take  liis  chance.  Pig 
sticker  indeed ! " 

Thus  terminated  this  formidable  interview ;  but, 
alas !  it  was  now  close  to  the  end  of  May,  and  in  the 
background  of  June  was  the  man  with  the  wart. 

The  next  day,  in  the  garden,  Francois  related  to 
the  marquis  his  interview  with  the  dreaded  Jacobin. 
The  gentleman  was  delighted. 

" Mo)t  J)ieu!  Francois,  you  are  a  great  man;  but 
I  fear  it  will  do  no  good ;  my  turn  must  be  near.  De 
Crosne  and  poor  Floury  got  their  little  billets  last 
evening,  and  are  off  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  to-mor 
row,  along  with  M.  de  la  Morne,  and  De  Lancival,  and 
more.  They  will  be  in  good  society.  Did  you  think 
that  Jacobin  Apollo  would  be  pricked  into  letting  me 
out  for  the*  chance  of  killing  me  ?  " 

"  It  came  near  to  that,  monsieur.  I  did  say  that 
you  were  not  much  of  a  blade,  after  all ;  that  Citizen 
Amar  was  out  of  condition  when  you  last  met ;  and 
that  if  he  and  I  could  fence  a  little,— outside,  of 
course, — M.  le  Marquis  would  regret  the  meeting." 

"  Delicious  !     And  he  took  it  all  ? " 

"Yes,  as  little  Annette  takes  a  fairy-tale  of  M. 
Fleury's — who  will  tell  no  more,  poor  fellow  !  " 

"  But,  after  all,  we  are  still  here.  I  envy  you  the 
interview.  Purlieu!  these  fellows  do  their  best,  but 
they  can't  take  the  jests  out  of  life.  I  hope  the  next 
world  will  be  as  amusing." 

As  he  ceased,  Francois  exclaimed  : 

"  By  all  the  saints  !  there  is  that  crazy  fool  Despard." 

"Despard— Despard?"  repeated  the  marquis. 
"  That  is  a  contribution  to  the  show.  How  the  mis 
chief  did  he  get  here  ? '' 


234  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

The  unlucky  Jacobin  was  wandering  about  like  a 
lost  dog,  a  shabby,  dejected  figure.  Toto,  at  play, 
recognized  his  master's  former  partner,  and  jumped 
up  in  amiable  recognition.  Despard  kicked  him,  and 
the  poodle,  unaccustomed  to  rude  treatment,  fled  to 
Francois.  The  thief's  long  face  grew  savage  and 
stern ;  to  hurt  Toto  was  a  deadly  offense. 

"Pardon,  monsieur,"  he  said  to  the  marquis,  and 
went  swiftly  to  where  Despard  stood  against  the  wall. 

"  Look  here,  rascal,"  said  Francois ;  "  if  ever  thou 
dost  kick  that  dog  again,  I  will  twist  thy  neck." 

Despard  did  not  seem  to  take  in  his  meaning. 

"It  is  thou,  Francois.  There  is  the  ci-devant— the 
marquis.  I  followed  him.  I— Pierre  Despard— I  de 
nounced  him.  I  did  it.  I  am  not  afraid." 

"  Stuff !  Didst  thou  hear  me  ?  What  have  I  to  do 
with  ci-devant  marquises?  Thou  hast  kicked  Toto." 

"  I  see  him  ;  I  must  speak  with  him." 

"  Ficlitre!  he  is  mad,"  said  the  thief,  and  went  after 
him. 

At  the  coming  of  Despard,  ragged,  wild-eyed,  ex 
cited,  the  group  about  the  tall  gentleman  turned. 

Despard  paused  before  him.  "  It  is  my  turn  now ! 
I  followed — I  followed — I  denounced  thee — I,  Pierre 
Despard.  They  will  let  me  out  when  thou  art  to  die ; 
it  will  be  soon.  I  will  take  thy  child— thy  bastard— 
my  wife's  child.  We  will  go  to  see  thee — I  and  thy 
hunchback— to  see  thee  on  the  tumbrel  at  the  guillo 
tine.  She  hath  thy  own  cold  eyes — frozen  eyes.  Thou 
wilt  know  her  by  those  when  thou  art  waiting— wait 
ing — shivering." 

The  marquis  listened  with  entire  tranquillity. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  235 

"One  or  two  more  in  the  audience  will  matter 
little  " ;  and,  smiling,  he  walked  away. 

A  strange  tremor  seized  on  the  chin  and  lower  lip 
of  Despard.  He  said  to  Francois,  "  Come  with  me," 
and  then,  in  a  bewildered  manner,  "  He  is  n't  afraid 
yet.  I— I  want  him  to  be  afraid." 

"  Dame!  thou  wilt  wait  then  till  the  cows  roost  and 
the  chickens  give  milk." 

"No  ;  it  will  come." 

"  Stuff !  How  earnest  thou  here  ?  Didst  thou  de 
nounce  thyself  ?  I  have  heard  of  men  mad  enough  to 
do  that." 

"  No.  Do  not  tell.  I  trust  thee  ;  I  always  did  trust 
thee.  I  am  a  spy.  I  am  to  stay  here  till  I  want  to 
be  let  out,  when  he — he  is  tried.  I  wanted  to  watch 
him.  Some  day  he  will  have  fear — fear — and — I— 

"  Well,  of  all  the  mad  idiots !  A  mouse  to  walk 
into  a  trap  of  his  own  accord !  Dieu!  but  the  cheese 
must  have  smelt  good  to  thee." 

"I  shall  go  out  when  I  want  to  go.  Didst  thou 
know  his  daughter  is  dead  ?  I  am  sorry  she  is  dead." 

"Yes- God  rest  her  soul !  " 

"  I  am  sorry  she  is  dead  because  she  cannot  be  here. 
I  wish  she  were  here.  If  only  she  were  here,  it  would 
be  complete.  Then  he  would  be  afraid." 

"Bon  Dieu!"  cried  several,  "he  will  kill  him!" 
The  thief  had  caught  Pierre  by  the  throat,  and,  scarce 
conscious  of  the  peril  of  his  own  strength,  he  choked 
the  struggling  man,  and  at  last,  in  wild  rage,  hurled 
him  back  amid  a  startled  mass  of  tumbled  people. 

"  Beast !  "  muttered  Francois,  at  his  full  height 
regarding  angrily  the  prostrate  man. 


236  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FKAN^OIS 

In  an  instant  the  jailers  were  at  his  side.  "What 
is  this?"  said  they. 

"  He— he  kicked  my  dog !  " 

"Did  he?     Well,  no  more  of  this,  citizen." 

"  Then  let  him  be  careful  how  he  kicks  my  dog ; 
and  take  him  away,  or— 

Pierre  needed  no  further  advice. 

Presently  Ste.  Luce  came  over  to  Francois. 

"  What  is  wrong  ? " 

"  He  kicked  my  dog  !  " 

"  Indeed  ?  Do  you  know  this  man  well  ?  Once  you 
warned  me  about  him.  Where  have  you  met  ? " 

"We  juggled  together,  monsieur,  when  I  used  to 
read  palms.  He  is  a  bit  off  his  head,  I  think." 

"'T  is  common  in  France  just  now,  or  else  the  re 
verse  is.  But  he  has  a  damnably  good  memory.  We 
of  Normandy  say,  '  As  is  the  beast,  so  are  his  claws.' 
The  fellow  is  of  good  blood  in  a  way ;  but,  mon  Dicu! 
he  is  a  coward  to  be  pitied.  To  be  through  and 
through  a  coward  does  much  enlarge  the  limits  of 
calamity.  If  I  or  if  you  were  to  hate  a  man,  for  rea 
sons  good  or  bad,  we  would  kill  him.  But  a  coward  ! 
What  can  he  do  ?  He  has  his  own  ways,  not  mine  or 
yours.  His  claws  are  not  of  the  make  of  mine.  I 
have  no  complaint  to  make  as  to  his  fashion  of 
revenging  himself ;  but  really,  revenge,  I  fancy,  must 
lose  a  good  deal  of  its  distinctness  of  flavor  when  it 
waits  this  long.  It  is,  I  should  say,  quite  twelve 
years— quite.  There  is  a  child,  he  says,  or  there  was. 
Do  you  chance  to  know  anything  about  it  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  it  ?    Is  it  male  or  female  ? " 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS  237 

"  A  girl,  monsieur.     I  never  saw  it." 

" How  old?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Penitence  becomes  a  question  of  dates,  Francois. 
But  it  is  true — true  that  I  never  had  the  least  talent 
for  regret ;  and  if  a  man  is  not  capable  of  regret,  why, 
Francois,  how  the  deuce  can  he  achieve  penitence? 
Don't  think  I  am  joking,  my  most  accomplished 
thief.  There  are  men  here  who— there  is  M.  de— 
well,  no  matter.  There  are  men  here  who  are  honestly 
bewailing  their  past— well,  amusements— sins,  if  you 
please.  I  cannot.  There  are  some  here  who,  because 
they  are  noble  by  descent,  are  making  believe  not  to 
be  afraid,  and  will  make  believe  until  the  knife  falls. 
I  am  not  penitent,  because  I  am  not ;  and  as  to  the 
knife,  I  have  had  a  most  agreeable  life,  and  should 
never  have  gone  on  living  if  life  had  ceased  to 
amuse  me." 

He  was  now  silent  awhile,  his  strong,  handsome 
features  clear  to  see,  as  they  lay  on  the  scant  grass 
in  the  sunshine.  The  thief  had  learned  that  at  times 
this  great  seigneur  would  talk,  and  liked  to  do  so ; 
and  that  at  other  times  he  was  to  be  left  to  the  long 
silences  which  were  difficult  to  secure  where  this 
morbidly  gay  crowd,  of  all  conditions  of  men,  was 
seeking  the  distraction  of  too  incessant  chat. 

He  rose  quietly,  and  went  away  to  talk  with  Dom- 
ville  of  the  Comedie,  who  himself  was  always  glad  of 
the  company  of  Francois's  cheery  visage. 

In  the  salon,  which  was  now  deserted,  he  saw 
Despard.  Pierre  stood  at  an  open  window,  and  was 
pulling  at  his  fingers,  as  Francois  had  so  often  seen 


238     THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

him  doing.  He  was  gazing  at  the  people  in  the  yard. 
His  eyes  wandered  feebly  here  and  there,  as  if  without 
interest  or  purpose.  His  attitude  of  dejection  touched 
some  chord  of  pity  in  his  partner's  heart. 

"Dame!  he  must  have  thought  I  was  rough  with 
him  for  a  dog— a  dog."  He  had  no  mind  to  explain. 

Pierre  turned  to  meet  him.  He  was  not  angry,  nor 
was  he  excited.  The  shifting  phases  of  his  malady 
had  brought  to  him  again  the  horrible  misery  of  such 
melancholy  as  they  who  are  sound  of  mind  cannot 
conceive.  When  this  torture  has  a  man  in  its  grip, 
the  past  is  as  nothing ;  the  present  a  curse ;  duty  is 
dead ;  the  future  only  an  assurance  of  continued  suf 
fering;  death  becomes  an  uiiconsidered  trifle;  life — 
continued  life — an  unbearable  burden. 

Poor  Pierre  said  no  word  of  his  ex-partner's  recent 
violence.  The  tears  were  running  down  his  cheeks. 
The  man  at  his  side  was,  as  usual,  gaily  cheerful. 

"What  is  wrong  with  thee?"  said  Francois.  "I 
was  hard  on  thee,  but  thou  knowest— " 

"  What  is  it  ? "  replied  Pierre.    "  I— it  is  no  matter." 

Francois,  surprised,  went  on  :   "  Can  I  help  thee  ? " 

"  No.  I  cannot  sleep ;  I  cannot  eat.  I  suffer.  I  am 
in  a  hell  of  despair." 

"  But  how,  or  why,  won  ami  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.     I  suffer." 

"  Rouse  up  a  bit.  Why  didst  chance  to  come  here  ? 
I  asked  thee  that  before.  If  thou  canst  get  out,  go  at 
once.  Thou  art  not  fit  to  be  in  this  place.  This  devil 
of  a  marquis  excites  thee.  To  be  a  spy  thou  shouldst 
be  ashamed.  Canst  thou  really  get  out  when  it  pleases 
thee  to  go  ? " 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS  239 

"Why  not?"  said  Pierre,  in  alarm.  "Dost  thou 
think  they  will  not  let  me  go  ?  I  did  not  want  to  be 
a  spy,  but  I  was  half  starved.  All  I  could  get  I  sent 
to  keep  my— his  poor  little  hunchback.  Vadier  lent 
me  some  money.  I  kept  none,  not  a  sou.  I  asked 
him  to  let  me  come  here  as  a  spy.  They  say  my  re 
ports  are  useless.  I  can't  help  that.  I  will  go  out. 
I  want  to  see  that  man  suffer;  I  want  to  see  him 
afraid.  He  is  not  afraid.  Dost  thou  think  he  is  afraid  ? " 

"  No." 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  pause,  when  Pierre,  in  a 
quiet,  childlike  manner,  said :  "  Dost  thou  think  he  ever 
will  be  afraid?" 

"  No,  Pierre ;  he  never  will  be.  What  a  fool  thou 
art  to  have  come  here !  'T  is  not  so  easy  to  get  out." 

"  Mon  Dien!  don't  say  that.     I— they  said—" 

"Dost  thou  believe  a  Jacobin— and  Vadier,  the 
beast,  of  all  men  ? " 

"  Hush ! "  said  Pierre,  looking  about  him  suspi 
ciously.  "I  must  go — I  must  go.  I  must  walk;  I 
cannot  keep  still." 

He  remained  in  this  mood  of  subdued  terror  and 
the  deepest  melancholy  for  some  days.  Then  for  a 
few  hours  he  followed  the  marquis  about,  proclaiming 
his  own  wrongs  in  a  high-pitched  voice.  At  last  Ste. 
Luce  complained  to  the  keeper,  Vaubertrand,  who 
hesitated  to  intorfere,  being  puzzled  and  fearful  as  to 
the  amount  of  influence  possessed  by  this  spy  of  the 
Committee  of  Safety.  He  mustered  enough  courage 
at  last  to  tell  Despard  that  he  must  not  speak  to  the  mar 
quis  ;  and,  as  he  luckily  caught  him  in  his  mood  of  de 
spair  and  depression,  the  man  timidly  promised  to  obey. 


XXI 

How  Francois,  having  made  a  bargain,  with  Citizen  Amar, 
cannot  keep  it  with  the  man  of  the  wart— How  Despard 
dies  in  the  place  of  the  marquis— Of  Francois's  escape 
from  prison. 

|HE  second  week  of  June  was  over.  The 
keeper,  who  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the 
merry  thief,  called  him  aside  one  after 
noon,  and  said : 

"  Thou  must  write  thy  report,  because 
to-morrow  comes  Citizen  Gregoire.  Thou  canst  use 
the  office  for  an  hour,  as  is  permitted.  But  take  care. 
Thou  dost  know  how  they  are  treated  in  the  prisons 
who  are  suspected  of  making;  these  reports  to  the 
committee.  I  will  come  for  thee  at  dusk." 

Francois  thanked  him,  and  at  the  time  mentioned 
was  locked  up  in  the  office  ;  for  despite  Vaubertrand's 
amiability,  he  was  careful  as  to  the  security  of  his 
prisoners.  As  it  was  now  dark,  the  office  table  was 
lighted  by  two  candles.  He  found  pen  and  ink  and 
paper,  but  no  competent  thoughts.  What  was  he  to 
say — whom  to  accuse?  He  had  made  a  hasty  con 
tract  with  Amar,  and  was  of  no  mind  to  fulfil  his 
share  of  it.  He  got  up  from  the  desk,  and  walked 

240 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS  241 

about.  "  The  deuce  !  "  he  said  to  Toto,  who  never  left 
him.  C"T  is  a  scrape  of  our  own  making.  I  should 
have  told  that  scamp  with  the  pretty  face  to  go  to 
the  devil  with  his  spy  business.  Sacrist ie!  doggie,  I 
am  like  that  fellow  in  the  play  I  once  saw.  He  sold 
his  soul  to  the  devil,  and  did  n't  want  to  pay  up  when 
the  time  came.  What  to  do?"  He  had  told  the 
marquis,  whom  he  trusted,  of  the  difficulty  he  antici 
pated. 

Ste.  Luce,  much  amused,  said :  "  Take  me  for  a 
subject.  I  am  as  sure  to  die  as  an  abbot's  capon.  If 
you  have  a  conscience,  it  may  rest  easy  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned." 

Francois  took  it  seriously.  "  I  beg  of  you,  mon 
sieur — 

"Oh,  a  good  idea !  "  laughed  the  nobleman,  breaking 
in  upon  his  remonstrance.  "  Tell  them  how  you  saw 
me  kill  three  good  citizens  that  night  on  the  stairs. 
By  Mars  !  Francois,  those  twenty  minutes  were  worth 
living  for.  I  was  in  a  plot  to  rescue  the  king;  tell 
them  that." 

"Not  I,"  grinned  the  thief. 

"  Confound  it !  you  are  difficult." 

And  now,  as  Francois  recalled  their  talk,  his  task 
was  not  more  easy.  He  nibbled  the  end  of  his  quill, 
and  looked  around  him.  At  last,  as  he  walked  to  and 
fro,  he  began  to  exercise  his  natural  inquisitiveness. 
It  was  never  long  quiet.  He  stared  at  the  barred 
windows.  A  set  of  pigeonholes  attracted  him.  He 
glanced  hastily  over  their  contents.  "Tiens! "  he  ex 
claimed. 

Every  day  or  two,  about  3  P.  M.,  a  clerk  of  the 


242  THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANQOIS 

Committee  of  Safety  brought  a  great  envelop 
stamped  with  the  seal  of  the  republic.  Within  was  a 
paper  on  which  were  clearly  set  out  the  names  and 
former  titles  of  the  citizen  prisoners  selected  for  trial 
the  night  before  in  joint  counsel  by  the  Great  Com 
mittee  and  that  of  Security.  The  keeper  copied  each 
name  on  to  the  space  in  the  blank  summons  kept  for 
this  use,  and  these  fatal  papers  were  then  duly  de 
livered  after  supper. 

Francois  looked  at  the  packet.  It  was  sealed.  He 
knew  well  what  it  meant.  It  was  labeled :  "  Mandate 
of  the  Tribunals  Nos.  4  and  5." 

"  Toto,  we  may  be  among  them ;  we  must  see/'  He 
looked  about  him.  Here  wrere  all  the  writing-table 
implements  then  in  use.  He  heated  a  knife,  and 
neatly  loosened  the  under  wax  of  the  seal.  The 
death-call  lay  before  him.  He  ran  over  it  with  shud 
dering  haste. 

"  Dien!  we  are  not  there.  But,  mon  ami,  here  is 
the  marquis !  "  His  was  the  last  name  at  the  foot  of 
the  first  page.  Francois  sat  still,  his  face  in  his 
hands.  At  any  moment  he  might  be  caught.  He 
did  not  heed. 

"I  must  do  it,"  he  said.  He  saw,  as  it  were 
before  him,  the  appealing  face  of  the  dead  woman, 
and  felt  in  remembrance  the  hand  the  great  seigneur 
had  given  him  on  the  stair.  He  had  a  glad  memory 
of  a  moment  which  had  lifted  him  on  to  the  higher 
levels  of  self-esteem  and  manhood. 

"I  will  do  it,  Toto;  't  is  to  be  risked;  and,  mon 
Dieu!  the  rest— the  rest  of  them ! "  Some  he  knew 
well.  Some  had  been  kind  to  him.  One  had  given 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF   FRANCOIS  243 

him  clothes  when  these  were  greatly  needed.  He 
was  profoundly  moved. 

"If  I  burn  it,  7t  is  but  to  give  them  a  day,  and  no 
more— if  I  burn  it !  " 

He  took  scissors  from  the  table,  and  carefully  cut 
off  the  half-inch  at  the  foot  of  the  paper.  It  was  now 
without  the  name  "  Ste.  Luce,  ci-devant  marquis."  He 
tore  up  the  strip  of  paper,  and  put  the  fragments  in 
the  fireplace,  behind  the  unkiudled  logs. 

Next  he  casually  turned  the  page.  "  del!  this  calls 
for  eleven.  I  have  left  but  ten.  They  will  think  it 
a  blunder.  One  will  be  wanting ;  that  is  all." 

He  used  a  little  melted  wax  under  the  large  seal, 
replaced  the  warrant  in  the  outer  cover,  and  returned 
the  document  to  the  pigeonhole  whence  he  had  taken 
it.  This  done,  he  sat  down  again,  and  began  to  write 
his  report. 

He  found  nothing  to  say,  except  that  those  he  would 
have  spoken  of  had  been  already  disposed  of;  and 
now  he  thought  again  that  he  would  burn  the  fatal 
paper.  He  rose  resolute,  but  at  this  moment  the  head 
keeper  came  back. 

Francois  was  sorry,  but  he  was  not  used  to  writing, 
and  made  excuses  until  at  last  the  man  said  impa 
tiently  : 

"Well,  them  must  settle  all  that  with  Amar  and 
Gregoire.  I  gave  thee  time  enough."  Could  he  have 
another  chance  ?  He  was  told  that  he  should  have  it ; 
but  now  it  was  supper-time  ;  better  not  to  be  missing. 
He  went  out  and  up-stairs  to  his  place  at  table. 

He  had  lost  his  gaiety.  Here  and  there  at  the  table 
were  the  doomed  men  and  women.  He  could  not  eat, 


244 

and  at  last  left  the  room  to  wander  in  the  corridors. 
Pierre  soon  found  him.  He  was  eager,  anxious,  and 
full  of  strange  news. 

"  When  will  that  brute  marquis  be  sent'  for  ?  I  was 
to  go  out  to-day.  They  have  forgotten.  There  is 
trouble  in  the  Great  Committee.  I  hear  of  it  from 
Vaubertrand.  Robespierre  and  Vadier  think  things 
go  not  fast  enough ;  and  the  rest— the  rest,  except 
little  cripple  Couthon  and  Saint-Just,  are  opposing 
our  great  Robespierre." 

Francois  began  to  be  interested,  and  to  ask  ques 
tions.  The  gazettes  were  no  longer  allowed  in  the 
prisons.  The  outer  world  was  a  blank  to  all  within 
their  walls. 

Despard,  flushed  and  eager,  told  him  how  daily  the 
exit  of  the  prisoners  for  trial  was  met  by  a  mob 
clamorous  for  blood.  Then  he  began  to  exhibit 
alarm.  Did  Francois  think  that  he,  Pierre,  might  by 
chance  miss  the  execution  of  the  marquis  ?  He  would 
speak  to  Gregoire,  who  was  coming  next  morning. 
They  should  learn  not  to  trifle  with  a  friend  of  Robes 
pierre.  When  FranQois  left  him  he  was  gesticulating, 
and,  as  he  walked  up  and  down  the  deserted  corridor, 
was  cracking  his  knuckles  or  gnawing  his  nails. 

After  supper  the  varied  groups  collected  in  the  salon. 
The  women  embroidered.  A  clever  artist  was  busy 
sketching  the  head  of  a  girl  of  twenty  for  those  she 
loved,  who  were  to  see  her  living  face  no  more.  Some 
played  at  cards.  Here  and  there  a  man  sat  alone,  wait 
ing,  stunned  by  the  sure  approach  of  death.  The  mar 
quis  was  in  gay  chat  with  the  Vicomte  de  Beausejour. 

"  Ah,  here  is  my  mysterious  gentleman  !  "  cried  Ste. 


THE  ADVENTUBES  OF  FKANgOIS  245 

Luce.  "  They  have  bets  on  you.  Tell  these  gentle 
men  who  you  really  are.  They  are  puzzled." 

Francois  smiled.  He  was  pleased  to  do  or  say 
anything  which  would  take  his  thoughts  off  the  near 
approach  of  the  messenger  of  doom.  He  said : 

"  M.  le  Marquis  knows  that  I  am  under  an  oath." 

"  Pardie!  true,  true ;  I  have  heard  as  much." 

"  The  bets  stantl  over/'  said  a  gray  old  man,  M.  do 
I'Antilhac.  u  We  knew  you  as  a  juggler." 

u  Yes,  and  a  fencing-master,"  said  Du  Pin. 

"  You  are  both  right.  These  times  and  the  king's 
service  set  a  man  to  strange  trades.  Well,  gentle 
men,  I  am  not  to  be  questioned.  Tales  lose  heads." 

They  laughed.  "  Pardon  me,"  said  a  younger  man. 
"  The  marquis  was  about  to  tell  us  of  the  delightful 
encounter  you  had  on  his  staircase.  'T  is  like  a  legend 
of  the  days  of  Henri  IV  of  blessed  memory." 

"  Tell  them,"  said  Ste.  Luce. 

"  The  marquis  does  me  much — Dim! "  Francois 
cried,  and  fell  back  into  a  chair,  weak  as  a  child.  The 
turnkey  went  by  him  with  the  fatal  missives. 

"  Art  thou  ill  ? "  said  De  TAntilhac.     "  What  is  it  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Francois.  "Excuse  me.  He— he— " 
And,  as  it  were  fascinated,  he  rose  and  went  after  the 
keeper. 

Vaubertrand  paused  behind  a  gentleman  who  was 
playing  piquet. 

"  Citizen  Ste.  Michel,"  he  said,  and  passed  on,  as  he 
laid  the  summons  before  the  player. 

"  At  last !  "  said  the  man  thus  interrupted.  "  Quatre 
to  the  king — four  aces.  Let  it  wait." 

Vaubertrand  moved  on.      Francois  followed  him. 


246      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

The  calls  to  trial  and  death  were  distributed.  A  man 
rolled  up  the  fatal  paper  without  a  word,  and  lighted 
his  pipe  with  it.  One  of  those  who  sat  apart  took  his 
summons,  and  fell  fainting  on  the  floor. 

"  Nothing  for  me  ? "  said  the  marquis. 

"  Not  yet,  citizen." 

"  I  was  never  before  so  neglected." 

The  game  went  on.  Here  and  there  a  woman 
dropped  her  embroidery  and  sat  back,  thinking  of 
the  world  to  come,  as  she  rolled  the  deadly  call  to 
trial  in  her  wet  fingers,  and  took  refuge  in  the  strength 
of  prayer. 

Francois  felt  as  if  it  were  he  who  had  condemned 
these  people.  He  went  to  his  cell,  and  tossed  about 
all  night,  sleepless.  Rising  early,  he  went  out  into  the 
garden.  After  breakfast  the  keeper  said  to  him  : 

"  Thou  shouldst  have  had  thy  report  ready.  Gre- 
goire  is  coming  to-day.  He  is  before  his  time.  If  he 
is  drunk,  as  usual,  there  will  be  trouble.  That  fool 
Despard  is  wild  to-day.  He  will  be  sure  to  stir  up 
some  mischief.  All  the  mouclutrds  will  be  called." 

"  Despard  is  an  idiot.  He  is  raving  one  day,  and 
fit  to  kill  himself  the  next.  Get  him  out  of  this." 

"  Dame!  I  should  be  well  pleased.  He  swears  I  keep 
him  here.  He  will— ah,  mon  Dicu!  the  things  he 
threatens.  I  am  losing  my  wits.  My  good  Francois, 
I  have  been  kind  to  thee,  and  I  talk  rashly.  I  wish  I 
had  done  with  it  all." 

"  And  I  too,  citizen ;  but  thou  art  safe  with  me." 

As  the  jailer  spoke,  he  looked  over  his  list  of  those 
summoned.  "Sa-cre  Wen!  here  is  a  list  which  calls  for 
eleven,  and  there  are  only  ten  names  !  " 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOlS  247 

"Some  one  has  made  a  mistake." 

"No  doubt.  But  Gregoire  never  listens.  Pray 
God  lie  be  sober.  Be  in  the  corridor  at  nine ;  Gre 
goire  will  want  to  see  thee." 

Francois  would  be  on  hand.  As  to  the  report,  he 
should  wish  to  ask  how  to  draw  it  up.  He  found  a 
quiet  corner  in. the  courtyard,  and  began  to  think 
about  the  man  with  the  wart — the  man  of  whom  he 
knew  so  little,  and  whom  he  feared  as  he  had  never 
before  feared  a  man.  The  every-day  horror  and  dis 
turbance  of  the  morning  had  begun.  Officers  were 
coming  and  going;  names  were  called;  there  were 
adieus,  quiet  or  heartrending.  The  marquis  was 
tranquilly  conversing,  undisturbed  by  the  scene,  which 
was  too  common  to  trouble  those  who  had  no  near 
friend  or  relation  in  the  batch  of  prisoners  called  for 
trial.  Francois  had  seen  it  all,  day  after  day.  It 
always  moved  him,  but  never  as  now. 

He  stood  looking  at  a  young  woman  who  was  sit 
ting  with  the  order  in  her  lap,  her  eyes  turned  heav 
enward  as  if  in  dumb  appeal.  Now  and  then  she 
looked  from  one  man  to  another,  as  if  help  must 
come. 

Francois  glanced  at  the  marquis ;  he  was  the  center 
of  a  laughing  group,  chatting  unconcerned. 

"del!  has  the  man  no  heart?"  he  murmured. 
"  Why  did  I  save  him  even  for  a  day  ?  The  good  God 
knows.  It  must  make  life  easy  to  be  like  him."  The 
marquis  would  have  been  amazed  to  know  that  the 
memory  of  a  white,  sad  woman's  face,  and  of  one 
heroic  hour,  had  given  him  a  new  lease  of  life. 

"  Ali,  Toto,"  said  the  thief  to  himself,  "  we  held  that 


248      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

stair  together,  lie  and  I."  The  thought  of  an  uplift 
ing  moment  overcame  him.  A  sudden  reflection 
that  he  might  have  been  other  than  he  was  flushed 
his  face. 

"  Ah,  my  friend  Toto,  we  could  have  been  some 
thing;  we  missed  our  chance  in  the  world.  Well, 
thou  dost  think  we  had  better  make  a  fight  for  it. 
Life  is  agreeable,  but  not  here.  Let  us  think.  There 
is  one  little  card  to  play.  Art  thou  up  to  it  ?  Yes ! 
I  must  go  now.  Thou  wilt  wait  here,  and  thou  wilt 
not  move.  In  an  hour  I  shall  be  with  thee ;  and, 
meanwhile,  behold  a  fine  bone.  No,  not  yet,  but  when 
I  come.  Attention,  now  !  " 

He  turned  his  back  to  the  prison,  took  off  a  shoe, 
and  extracted  a  paper,  which  he  folded  so  as  to  be 
small  and  flat.  Then  he  produced  a  bit  of  a  kid 
glove  he  had  asked  from  Mine.  Cerise  of  the  Comedie 
Francaise.  In  it  he  laid  the  paper,  and  put  the  little 
packet,  thus  protected,  in  the  dog's  mouth.  "Keep 
it,"  he  said.  "It  is  death— it  is  life."  The  dog  lay 
down,  his  sharp  black  nose  on  his  paws,  shut  his  eyes, 
and  seemed  to  be  asleep.  He  had  done  the  thing 
before. 

When  Francois  entered  the  corridor  he  found  the 
keeper. 

"  Come,"  said  Vaubertrand.  "  The  commissioner 
is  in  a  bad  way,  and  drunk,  too.  He  is  troubled,  I 
think,  and  the  citizens  who  are  outside  reproach  him 
that  the  supply  for  the  guillotine  is  small,  and  the 
prisons  full.  What  have  I  done  to  be  thus  tormented  ? 
There  will  be  a  massacre,  del!  I  talk  too  much.  I 
have  favored  thee.  Take  care— and  thou  canst  laugh 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FKANgOIS  249 

yet."  Whereifpon  Francois  laughed  anew,  and  went 
after  him. 

The  large  hall  on  the  first  floor  was  unusually  full. 
There  was  much  confusion.  The  great  street  door,  as 
it  was  opened  wide  and  shut  again  in  haste,  gave  a 
not  reassuring  glimpse  of  men  in  red  bonnets  roaring 
the  Qa  ira.  Over  all  rose  the  shrill  tongues  of  the 
women  of  the  markets.  A  new  batch  of  prisoners 
was  pushed  in,  the  keeper  declaring  he  had  no  room. 
Officers  of  the  Committee  of  Safety  untied  the  hands 
of  the  newcomers,  and  ranged  them  on  stone  benches 
to  the  left.  On  the  right  were  those  who  were  called 
to  trial.  Francois  stood  aside,  watchful. 

Pierre  Despard  was  waiting,  flushed  and  anxious. 
As  a  spy,  he  had  leave  from  Vaubertrand  to  descend 
in  order  to  state  his  case  to  Gregoire.  He  went  hither 
and  thither,  noisy,  foolish,  gesticulating.  He  was  now 
in  his  alternate  mood  of  excitement,  and  soon  began 
to  elbow  his  way  toward  the  office. 

"  Citizen  La  Yaque  is  summoned." 

A  tall  man  answered  from  the  bench.  Then  another 
and  another  was  called.  The  officers  went  down  the 
line,  and,  paper  in  hand,  verified  the  prisoners.  They 
were  taken,  one  by  one,  into  a  side  room  by  a  second 
officer,  and  their  hands  secured  behind  their  backs. 

At  last  the  first  officer  said:  "Here  are  but  ten, 
Citizen  Vaubertrand,  and  the  list  calls  for  eleven. 
The  keeper  must  see  the  commissioner."  The  officer 
in  charge  reproached  Vaubertrand  for  neglect.  The 
man  with  the  wart  came  out  from  the  office. 

"  Silence  !  "  he  cried.     "  What  is  this  ? " 

The  matter  was  explained,  or  was  being  set  forth, 

15 


250  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

when  the  door  opened,  and  another  half-dozen  unfor 
tunates  were  rudely  thrust  in,  while  the  crowd  made 
a  furious  effort  to  enter.  Gregoire  turned  pale. 

11  Thou  shalt  answer  for  this.  Find  another.  I 
shall  hear  of  it,  and  thou,  too." 

Meanwhile,  Despard,  too  insane  to  observe  Gregoire's 
condition,  and  lost  to  all  sense  of  anything  but  his  own 
sudden  wish  to  escape,  was  frantically  pulling  the 
furious  commissioner  by  the  arm. 

"  Citizen,"  he  cried,  "  I  must  be  heard !  Dost  hear  ? 
Thou  wilt  repent.  I  am  the  friend  of  Robespierre." 

Gregoire  paid  no  attention  ;  he  was  half  drunk,  and 
raging  at  poor  Vaubertrand. 

"  I  will  report  thee,"  cried  Despard.  "  I  denounce 
thee ! " 

Gregoire  turned  upon  him  in  a  rage. 

"  Who  is  this  ? "  he  cried. 

"I  am  Despard  of  the  fourth  section.  I  will  let 
thee  know  who  I  am."  In  his  madness  he  caught 
Gregoire  by  the  collar  and  shook  him. 

Gregoire  called  out :  "  Take  away  this  fool !  What ! 
threaten  me — me — Gregoire  !  Ah,  thou  art  the  rascal 
who  plunders  chateaux.  I  know  thee.  Thou  dost 
threaten  an  officer  of  the  Committee  of  Safety.  Tie  this 
fellow ;  he  will  do  for  the  eleventh.  Quick,  quick  !  " 

There  was  no  hesitation.  The  officers  seized  their 
prey,  and  Gregoire,  growling,  went  again  into  the  office. 

Pierre  fought  like  the  madman  he  was,  but  in  a 
minute  was  brought  back  screaming  and  added  to 
the  corvee.  It  was  complete.  He  was  carried  out 
raving,  amid  the  yells  and  reproaches  of  the  mob, 
which  broke  up  and  went  along  with  the  wagons. 


251 

Again  there  was  quiet  in  the  hall,  where  the  thief 
stood  in  wonder,  horror-stricken.  "It  is  I  that  have 
killed  him— he  who  did  long  to  see  another  die.  And 
for  him  to  die  in  the  place  of  the  marquis—dame!  it 
is  strange." 

"  del! "  cried  Vaubertrand,  wiping  the  sweat  from 
his  brow.  "  This  is  the  second  they  took  this  way  to 
make  up  for  some  one's  blunder.  Come,  and  have  a 
care  what  you  say.  He  is  half  drunk." 

Francois  entered  the  office. 

"Who  is  this?"  said  Gregoire,  facing  him,  with  his 
large,  meaningless  face  still  flushed  and  angry. 

Vaubertrand  pushed  forward  the  reluctant  Francois. 
"  It  is  one  of  the  reporters,  citizen  commissioner." 

"  Ahem !  One  of  Citizen  Amar's  appointments," 
said  Gregoire.  "  Thou  canst  go,  Citizen  Vauber 
trand";  and  he  looked  up  as  he  sat  at  the  table. 

"Thy  name?" 

"  Francois,"  said  the  thief. 

"Thy  occupation?" 

"Juggler." 

The  citizen  commissioner  was  on  the  uncertain 
line  between  appearance  of  sobriety  obtained  by 
effort  and  ebriety  past  control.  As  he  interrogated 
Francois  his  head  dropped  forward.  He  recovered 
himself  with  a  sharp  jerk,  and  cried  sharply : 

"  Why  dost  thou  not  answer  ?  I  said,  How  didst 
thou  get  here,  and  who  gave  thee  thy  order  to 
report  ? " 

"  Citizen  Amar ;  he  is  a  friend  of  mine." 

u  Is  he  ?     Well,  where  is  thy  sacre  report  ? " 

"I   should  like  to   tell  the   citizen   commissioner 


252  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

what  I  have  to  say.  I— I  did  not  know  just  how  to 
frame  it." 

Meanwhile  Gregoire  was  considering  him  with  un 
steady  e}Tes.  "  Ah,  now  I  have  it ;  now  I  remember 
thee.  Thou  art  an  ex-emigre.  I  shall  attend  to  thee. 
It  was  thou  who  stole  my  wallet  of  papers ;  and  thou 
couldst  laugh,  too.  del!  what  a  laugh  !  Try  it  now." 

Franc, ois  replied  that  he  was  no  emigre';  as  to  the 
rest,  he  could  explain;  and  leaning  over,  he  said 
quietly : 

"  You  will  do  well  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  '  You  will  do  well ' !  Idiot !  "Why  dost  thou  say 
'you,  you"!  Cursed  aristocrat  that  thou  art!  Say 
'thou'  when  thou  dost  address  me,  or  I  shall— where 
is  that  report  ? " 

"  If  the  citizen  will  listen.  There  was  in  that  wallet 
a  little  paper  addressed  to  Citizen  de  la  Vicomterie. 
Dame!  it  was  good  reading,  and  I  have  it  still." 

"  Thou  hast  it  ?     Thou  wilt  not  have  it  long." 

Gregoire  was  not  over-intelligent,  and  had  now  the 
short  temper  of  drink.  The  prisoner  tried  to  get  a 
moment  in  which  to  explain  that  another  held  the 
document. 

Gregoire  was  past  hearing  reason.  "  Officers,  here  ! 
here  !  "  he  cried.  "  Search  this  man  !  Search  him. 
Strip  him.  Here  !  here  !  " 

Francois  did  not  stir.  "When  thou  hast  done  we 
can  talk." 

"  Hold  thy  tongue  !     Search  him." 

"Mafoi,  marquis,"  said  the  thief,  later,  "they  did  it 
well.  They  even  chopped  up  the  heels  of  my  shoes. 
And  my  coat !  Sacre!  The  good  keeper  gave  me 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  FKANgOIS  253 

another.  In  our  cell,  as  I  learned,  they  went  through 
the  beds  and  Heaven  knows  what  else.  I  was  well 
pleased,  I  can  tell  thee,  when  it  was  all  over." 

The  commissioner  had  now  cooled  down.  "  Put  on 
thy  clothes,"  said  Gregoire,  and  himself  shut  the  door. 
It  was  Francois's  turn. 

"  Citizen,"  he  said,  "  didst  thou  think  me  fool  enough 
to  leave  within  reach  that  little  letter  of  thine  to  the 
good  citizen  of  the  committee— to— ah,  yes,  La  Vicom- 
terie  is  his  name.  I  am  not  an  emiyre,  only  a  poor 
devil  of  a  thief  and  a  juggler.  I  do  not  love  Citizen 
Robespierre  any  better  than  some  others  love  him  — 
some  I  could  name.  But  one  must  live,  and  the  day 
I  go  out  to  thy  infernal  tribunal,  Robespierre  will 
have  thy  letter.  A  friend  will  go  himself  and  lay  it 
before  the  committee." 

Gregoire  grew  deadly  pale,  all  but  the  wart,  which 
remained  red.  "  I  am  betrayed  !  " 

"Wait  a  little.  Thou  art  not  quite  lost,  but  thou 
wilt  be  unless — 

"Unless  what?" 

"  Unless  thou  wilt  open  that  door  and  set  me  free. 
I  have  no  grudge  against  thee.  I  will  arrange  to  have 
for  thee  the  letter,  and  must  receive  from  thee  a  new 
carte  de  surete,  and  a  good  passport  on  business  of 
the  Committee  of  Safety." 

The  commissioner  was  partly  sobered.  "  How  shall 
I  know  that  thou  wilt  keep  thy  word?" 

'•'Thou  wilt  not  know  until  I  do.  Why  should  I 
not  ? " 

"  But  the  letter  may  be  lost." 

"Well,  what  then?    Thou  wilt  be  safe,  and  have 


254      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

one  less  life  to  answer  for  to  the  devil  when  he  gets 
thee." 

11  Talk  business.     There  is  no  devil." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  thee.  His  name  is  Robespierre. 
The  mischief  is  that  it  is  I  who  do  not  trust  thee. 
Thou  hast  a  wart,  citizen.  Men  who  have  warts  are 
unlucky  to  meet.  But  take  care,  because  I  am  a 
desperate  man,  and  most  extremely  value  my  head. 
If  thou  shouldst  fail  to— 

"  No,  no ;  I  promise." 

"  Good,  then." 

"  Wait ;  I  will  write  out  the  papers." 

"  I  shall  not  hurry  thee.  I  must  pack  up.  I  will 
be  back  in  half  an  hour.  Be  so  kind  as  to  arrange 
that  I  may  return  without  hindrance." 

Francois  went  at  once  to  the  garden,  and  called 
Toto.  Then  he  hastened  to  his  caclwt,  or  cell,  and, 
finding  himself  alone,  shut  the  door,  took  the  little 
packet  from  Toto's  mouth,  and  gave  him  the  promised 
bone.  He  placed  the  paper  inside  his  stocking,  and 
secured  it  with  a  pin.  Next  he  gathered  up  his 
small  effects,  left  his  mangled  coat  on  the  bed  of  a 
fellow-prisoner,  and  descended  thoughtfully  to  the 
office. 

He  was  glad  to  see  that  the  man  of  the  wart  was 
sitting  apparently  inattentive  to  the  piles  of  accounts 
before  him.  "  Clearly,  the  citizen  is  worried,"  said 
Francois  to  himself. 

"  I  have  thy  papers.  One  had  to  be  sent  out  for 
a  signature.  Here  is  thy  card  of  safety,  and  reap- 
proved  as  that  of  a  citizen  who  has  denounced  an 
ex-emigre.  Also,  behold  a  passport,  and  an  order 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  255 

from  the  Committee  of  Safety  to  leave  Paris  on  busi 
ness  of  the  republic.  All  are  in  the  name  of  Citizen 
Francois,  juggler." 

"  The  citizen  has  been  thoughtful." 

"  Sacre!  I  never  do  things  by  halves ;  I  am  thor 
ough.  And  now,  as  to  the  paper  ? " 

"  It  will  be  best  for  thee  to  come,  at  twelve  to-day, 
to  No.  33  his  Rue  Perpignan.  There  I  will  take  thee 
to  my  old  room,  or  another,  and  make  good  my  side 
of  the  bargain.  After  that,  I  have  the  agreeable  hope 
never  to  meet  thee  again." 

"  I  will  be  there  at  noon." 

Frangois's  watchful  ear  detected  a  certain  emphasis 
on  the  "  I "  of  this  phrase,  which  made  him  suspicious. 
He  said  quietly : 

"  Citizen,  thou  hast  sold  me  my  head.  I  shall  give 
thee  thine.  Afterward  I  shall  be  in  thy  power." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  that  might  be  so  with  Amar  or  Couthon, 
but  not  with  Andre  Gregoire." 

"Tims!"  said  the  thief,  "what  is  this?  'Andre'? 
This  order  is  signed  '  Alphonse  Gregoire.'  The  citizen 
must  have  been  absent-minded.  Look !  " 

Gregoire  flushed.  "True,  true.  I  will  write  a 
second.  I  was  troubled." 

Francois  stood  still,  received  the  second  order,  and, 
saying,  "  Au  revoir,  citizen,"  was  about  to  leave,  when 
a  thought  seemed  to  strike  him.  He  paused.  "  There 
is  here  a  ci-demnt  marquis  you  may  recall— Ste.  Luce." 

"Well?" 

"  Put  his  name  at  the  foot  of  the  file  of  the  accused 
and  keep  it  there.  Get  a  clerk  to  do  it.  The  citizen 
is  aware  that  it  is  done  every  day." 


256      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANCOIS 

"  Impossible  !  Art  thou  insane  ?  I  run  risk  enough 
with  thy  order  and  passport.  But  this  I  dare  not  do. 
There  are  limits." 

"  Do  it,  or  I  throw  up  my  bargain.  By  Heaven,  I 
am  in  earnest !  Come,  what  will  it  cost  ?  Will  one 
hundred  louis  d'or  do  the  business  ? " 

Gregoire  reflected.  What  more  simple  than  to  say 
yes,  pocket  the  money,  and  let  things  take  their 
course  ? 

"I  will  do  it  for  that— I  mean  I  can  have  it  done." 

"  Then  give  me  ten  minutes." 

"  I  will  wait." 

The  rich  throughout  these  evil  days  were  allowed 
to  have  in  prison  as  much  money  as  they  could  get 
from  without.  About  March  of  this  sad  year  they 
were  told  that  they  must  feed  the  poorer  captives, 
and  were  regularly  assessed.  Francois  was  aware 
that  the  marquis  was  well  provided.  He  found  him  in 
the  garden,  and  asked  him  to  step  aside. 

"  I  am  free,  monsieur,"  he  said.  "  No  matter  how. 
And  I  have  bargained  for  your  own  head."  He 
briefly  related  so  much  of  his  talk  with  Gregoire  as 
concerned  the  marquis. 

Ste.  Luce  looked  at  him.  "  Pardie!  You  are  an 
unusual  type  of  thief— or  man.  I  would  thank  you 
if  I  considered  my  head  worth  much.  But,  after  all, 
it  is  a  natural  attachment  one's  body  has  for  one's 
head,  or  one's  head  for  one's  body,  to  put  it  correctly. 
Will  it  be  wasted  money,  my  admirable  thief,  or  will 
the  rascal  keep  his  word  ? " 

11  Yes;  he  will  keep  his  word— after  we  get  through 
with  the  affair." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  257 

"You  are  a  great  man,  Francois,  but  I  have  not 
the  money.  I  lost  it  last  night  to  Delavigne.  I  will 
get  the  loan  of  it.  Rather  a  new  idea  to  borrow  one's 
head !  Wait  a  little."  He  came  back  in  a  few  minutes. 
"It  pretty  well 'cleaned  out  two  of  them.  Good  luck 
to  you ;  and  if  ever  we  are  out  of  this  hole,  we  must 
fence  a  little.  By  the  way,  I  hear  they  took  that 
poor  devil  Despard  to-day.  It  is  a  relief.  He  bored 
me  atrociously." 

"  Yes ;  they  took  him  in  your  place,  monsieur.  It 
was  to  have  been  to-day— 

"  To-day  !     In  my  place  ?     Tiens!  that  is  droll." 

"Yes." 

"But  how— why?" 

"No  matter  now.     I  will  tell  monsieur  some  day." 

"Are  you  a  magician,  Master  Francois?" 

"  I  was.     But  I  did  not  desire  this  man's  death." 

"  And  the  guillotine  will  have  him,  and  he  will  not 
be  on  hand  to  see  me  scared,  del!  but  it  is  strange. 
Alas  !  the  disappointments  of  this  mortal  life  !  Good 
luck  to  you,  and  an  revoir,  I  thank  you." 

A  few  minutes  later,  Gregoire,  having  carefully 
disposed  of  the  gold  about  his  ample  person,  escorted 
Citizen  Francois  to  the  outer  door.  The  look  with 
which  the  commissioner  with  the  wart  regarded  the 
retreating  back  and  the  big  ears  of  Francois  was  un 
friendly,  to  say  the  least. 


XXII 

Wherein  is  told  how  Francois  baits  a  crab-trap  with 
the  man  of  the  ivart. 


RANQOIS  understood  the  risks  of  his 
position.  For  a  time  he  was  safe.  After 
he  gave  up  that  precious  paper  he  would 
be  at  Grego ire's  mercy.  "  More  or  less," 
muttered  the  thief,  with  a  laugh  which 
set  Toto  to  capering.  He  went  toward  the  Seine, 
looked  in  the  shop-windows,  and  had  a  bite  and  a 
good  bottle  of  wine,  for  the  marquis  had  insisted  on 
giving  him  ten  louis  for  his  own  use.  About  half- 
past  eleven  he  turned  into  the  Rue  Perpignan,  and 
rang  the  bell  at  No.  33  bis. 

"Come,  Toto,"  he  said,  as  he  went  in.  "We  owe 
Mine.  Quatre  Pattes  a  little  debt.  Let  us  be  honest 
and  pay."  He  closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  heard 
the  sharp  voice  of  the  concierge:  "Who  goes  there? 
Speak,  or  I  will  be  after  thee."  He  drew  back,  and 
looked  in  through  the  glassed  door  of  the  Crab's  room. 
He  knew  she  would  not  sally  out.  Why  should  she  ? 
Her  house  was  only  a  hive  of  thieves  and  low  women, 
who  were  driven  away  when  they  could  not  pay,  and 
who  rarely  plundered  one  another." 

258 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  259 

He  had  never  before  so  carefully  inspected  his 
landlady.  She  was  seated  at  a  table,  about  to  drink 
a  cup  of  cocoa.  The  room,  the  table,  the  little  well- 
swept  hearth,  were  all  as  clean  as  care  and  work  could 
keep  them.  The  woman  herself  was  no  less  neat  than 
her  surroundings,  yet  she  seemed  one  who  belonged 
to  the  sties  of  the  Cite's  lowest  life.  There  was  some 
thing*  strangely  feline  in  the  combination  of  animal 
appearance  with  the  notable  cleanliness  of  her  patched 
clothes,  her  person,  and  her  abode.  Her  back,  bent 
forward  from  the  waist,  and  rigid,  forced  her  to  turn 
her  head  up  and  to  one  side  to  attain  a  view  of  the 
face  of  man.  The  same  need  kept  her  red  eyes  wide 
open.  The  malady  which  caused  this  distortion  had 
ceased  to  be  active.  It  had  scarcely  affected  her  gen 
eral  health.  Like  many  of  those  who  have  suffered 
from  the  more  common  forms  of  the  disease  which 
makes  the  hunchback,  she  possessed  amazing  strength. 

Now,  as  Francois  stood  hesitating,  watchful,  she 
sat  at  table  before  him,  intent  on  her  meal,  looking 
here  or  there  for  bread  or  salt,  her  head  swaying 
from  side  to  side. 

"  If  she  were  to  bite  a  man,  he  would  be  as  good  as 
dead,"  murmured  the  thief.  "  What  is  it  she  is  like  f 
Ah,  't  is  the  vipers  in  the  wood  of  Fontainebleau.  Bon- 
jour,  maman"  he  cried  gaily,  as  he  went  in. 

Taken  by  a  sharp  surprise,  she  gripped  at  her  two 
sticks  on  the  table,  but  missed  them.  They  fell  clat 
tering,  and  her  shaky  hands  dropped  on  her  lap.  She 
lacked  not  courage.  As  she  sat  crouched,  the  bald 
head,  red-eyed  and  vigilant,  was  held  back  to  watch 
this  enemy. 


260  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

Toto  ran  in,  and  fawned  at  her  feet. 

" Enchanted  to  see  you,  maman"  By  this  time  she 
had  her  wits  about  her,  and,  hearing  no  accusing 
charges,  felt  more  at  ease. 

"Come  back  again,  art  thou,  my  fine  thief-bird? 
Did  he  fly  to  his  nest  ?  Ha !  he  knows  who  will  take 
care  of  him.  That  sacre  shoemaker  it  was  who  de 
nounced  thee.  Didst  thou  think  it  was  thy  little 
maman  f  Thou  didst  scold  me.  But  how  didst  thou 
get  out?" 

"Ah,  110  matter  now,"  said  Francois.  "I  have 
work  on  hand  for  thee.  If  I  mistrusted  thee,  it 
is  not  here  I  should  have  come.  Sometime  we  will 
have  a  little  eau-de-vie  and  a  pipe,  maman,  and  I 
will  tell  thee  all  about  it.  Wouldst  thou  serve 
the  republic,  and  be  well  paid  for  it?  Here,  take 
thy  sticks ;  thou  art  fit  for  anything  only  when  thou 
hast  all  thy  four  legs.  Listen,  now ;  and,  to  begin, 
thou  canst  read  a  little— enough  to  understand  this 
passport,  and  this  order  from  the  Great  Committee 
of  Safety  ? " 

She  looked  eagerly  over  the  papers.     "  Yes,  yes." 

"  And  thou  canst  read  this  still  better."  He  let  a 
gold  louis  drop  on  the  table.  She  put  out  a  claw, 
and,  failing  through  tremor  to  pick  it  up,  drew  it  to 
the  edge,  and  for  a  moment  held  it  under  her  eyes ;  then 
she  put  it  into  her  mouth,  and,  apparently  satisfied, 
chewed  011  it,  moving  her  lower  jaw  from  side  to  side. 

"A  good  purse,  maman.  It  would  be  a  bold  man 
or  a  blind  would  steal  thy  head  for  the  gold.  Heads 
always  lose  in  our  France  to-day ;  thy  own  is  none 
too  sure,  maman." 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS      261 

"If  thou  art  thinking  to  scare  Quatre  Pattes,  it 
won't  do.  Ha!  it  won't  pay."  She  looked  as  if  it 
would  not. 

Francois  saw  that  he  had  made  a  misplay.  He 
laughed  his  best.  "Norn-  de  (liable!  thou  didst  like  a 
joke  once.  No  matter.  My  time  is  short.  I  ex 
pect  a  citizen  in  a  few  minutes.  Is  my  old  room 
empty?" 

"  Yes,  and  half  the  rest.  I  tell  thee,  monfils,  I  have 
missed  thee." 

"  Give  me  the  key,  and  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  These 
will  do.  Thy  ink  is  dry.  A  little  water— so.  I  shall 
come  down  in  a  minute  or  two,  and  tahe  the  citizen 
up  with  me.  After  that  I  shall  come  down  alone. 
The  citizen  will  be  locked  up." 

"  Good.  Will  he  be  alive  f  I  will  have  no  tricks ; 
they  get  one  into  trouble." 

"  Alive  !     Yes  ;  he  will  howl." 

"  Ah,  he  will  howl.     What  shall  I  get  ? " 

"  He  will  pay  to  get  out." 

"  He  will  pay— how  much  ? " 

"  One — two — three  hundred  francs." 

"Pshaw!     Paper?" 

"  No  ;  gold.  At  four  to-morrow— no  later,  no  sooner 
— at  four  to-morrow  thou  wilt  let  him  out ;  and,  mind 
thee,  Dame  Quatre  Pattes,  this  is  business  of  the  re 
public.  What  happens  to  him  after  he  is  let  out  is  of 
no  moment.  He  may  very  likely  make  a  fuss ;  he  is 
bad-tempered.  Wilt  thou  take  the  risk  ? " 

"  I— Quatre  Pattes  ?     Three  hundred  francs  !     I  ? " 

"  If  I  return  not  to  give  further  orders  before  twelve, 
thou  mayst  ask  the  municipals  to  be  here  at  four. 


262      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

That  will  save  trouble.  He  will  then  be  in  no  way  to 
swear  thou  hast  his  money.  That  may  be  the  best 
plan.  I  have  no  mind  to  get  thee  into  trouble.  Now, 
hold  thy  tongue ;  and  remember,  it  will  be  the  little 
cripple  Couthon  who  will  reckon  with  thee  if  in  this 
business  thou  dost  fail." 

"  This  is  all  very  well  if  thou  dost  not  return ;  but 
who  will  pay  me  if  thou  art  of  a  mind  to  come  and 
take  him  away  thyself  ? " 

U'T  is  a  sharp  old  Crab,"  laughed  Francois.  "  If  I 
come  for  him,  I  promise  thee  he  shall  pay  thee  full 
rent ;  and  here  is  his  denier  a  Dieu,  maman."  He  cast 
another  loui^  in  her  lap.  "  If  I  come  not  by  noon, 
get  all  you  can,  and  denounce  him  as  a  suspect ;  but 
remember— not  till  four." 

"  Queue  du  (liable!  'T  is  a  fine  transaction,"  cried 
the  Crab,  and  knocked  her  sticks  together  for  emphasis. 
"  We  will  bleed  him  like  a  doctor ;  we  will  send  in  the 
bill  under  the  door ;  and  then— we  will  have  some  nice 
municipals  for  sextons.  Ha !  ha  !  It  is  well  to  have 
the  credit  on  one's  little  carte  de  stirete." 

Francois  assured  her  that  the  plan  was  good.  At 
this  point,  however,  she  became  suddenly  suspicious. 
She  stood  crouching  over  her  sticks,  the  snake-like 
head  slowly  moving  from  side  to  side,  her  eyes  search 
ing  the  thief's  smiling  face.  "  Why  is  the  man  to  be 
kept?  What  is  it?" 

He  expected  this.  "  Ask  Couthon  the  palsied  that, 
thou  imbecile.  I  will  take  him  elsewhere.  There  are 
a  dozen  houses  where  they  ask  no  questions.  Yes  or 
no?" 

"  Yes,  yes !  "     Caution  was  put  to  sleep  by  greed ; 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS      263 

or,  more  truly,  by  want,  which  was  iiearing  its 
extremity. 

He  felt  secure.  "  If  he  should  ring  before  I  get 
down-stairs,  let  him  wait.  Now,  the  ink  and  key." 

'•Is  he  to  make  his  will?  Thou  wilt  not  be 
long  ? » 

"No ;  I  want  something  that  I  left." 

"Ah!  thou  didst  leave  something?" 

"  Yes,  and  thou  didst  not  find  it,  inaman.  Fie,  fie, 
for  a  clever  woman !  Well,  if  thou  didst  not  find  it, 
few  could.  Wait,  now." 

He  went  swiftly  up-stairs  with  Toto,  and  unlocked 
the  door,  leaving  the  key  outside  in  the  lock.  He  put 
the  writing-materials  on  a  table.  In  the  chimney,  just 
within  reach  of  his  farthest  touch,  he  found  his  pistol. 
It  was  not  loaded,  and  he  had  no  powder  to  recharge 
it.  He  laughed  as,  putting  it  behind  him  in  his  waist- 
belt,  under  his  cloak,  he  descended  the  stair. 

"  All  is  right.  Cordon,  if  you  please,"  he  cried  from 
the  hall.  He  had  not  waited  outside  five  minutes 
when  Gregoire  appeared,  in  ordinary  dress,  without 
the  official  feathered  hat  or  the  scarf  of  a  functionary. 
He  was  now  sober  enough,  but  uneasy,  and  looked 
about  him  as  if  fearing  recognition. 

"  Come,"  said  Francois.  They  mounted  the  ill- 
smelliiig  stairway  to  the  attic.  Neither  spoke.  Once 
they  were  within  the  room,  Francois  said :  "  Sit 
down."  He  took  a  stool,  placing  himself  between 
Gregoire  and  the  door.  "  To  business,"  he  said,  and 
slipped  out  the  famous  letter  from  Gregoire  to  De  la 
Vicomterie.  He  glanced  at  it,  laughing.  "  There  are 
three  or  more  heads  in  this,"  he  said.  "  Robespierre 


264  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

would  pay  well  for  it,  or  Saint-Just.  One  might  put 
it  up  at  auction.  There  would  be  high  bidding." 

Grregoire  said :  "  I  have  paid  for  it.  Give  it  to  me 
— give  it  to  me  !  " 

"  No  hurry,  commissioner."  The  thief  enjoyed  the 
situation.  "  Let  us  talk  a  little.  Let  us  make  things 
a  trifle  safer.  Have  the  kindness  to  write  a  receipt  for 
one  hundred  louis  d'or  accepted  by  thee  as  security  for 
the  head  of  one  Louis  de  Ste.  Luce,  ci-devant  marquis." 

"  Not  I !  "  cried  Gregoire,  starting  up. 

"  Ah,  I  think  thou  wilt " ;  and,  with  this,  Francois 
drew  his  quite  harmless  pistol,  and  cocked  it. 

"Dost  thou  mean  to  murder  me?  Help!  help! 
Murder ! " 

Francois  seized  him  by  the  throat  and  thrust  him 
down  on  to  the  chair. 

"The  devil!  Fat  fool!  must  I  really  kill  thee? 
Hold  thy  tongue.  Toto,"  he  said,  "just  look  at  this 
gentleman.  He  is  afraid,  a  coward— he  who  has  killed 
so  many — so  many  brave  men  and  women,  who  died 
and  showed  no  fear.  Keep  the  door,  Toto.  There, 
now,  citizen ;  write  it,  and  quick,  too,  or — " 

"  But  it  is  my  death." 

"  What  do  I  care  ?  It  is  certain  death  unless  thou 
dost  keep  faith.  Once  the  marquis  is  free,  and  I  am 
secure,  I  will  burn  it.  That  is  all.  Thou  art  forced 
to  trust  me.  The  situation  is  simple,  and  rather 
different  from  what  it  was  at  nine  this  morning. 
Thou  art  trapped." 

It  was  true,  and  Gregoire  knew  it.  He  drew  his 
chair  to  the  table,  and  wrote  a  few  lines  as  the  thief 
dictated.  Francois  added  a  request  for  a  date.  "  Thou 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  265 

art  not  clever  with  a  pen,"  he  said;  "thy  hand 
shakes." 

u  I  am  a  lost  man  !  " 

"  Xo ;  by  110  means.  But  look  out  for  my  marquis. 
He  ought  to  be  very  precious  to  thee,  because— because 
if  there  should  be  any  accident  to  him  or  to  me,  my 
friend  will  promptly  place  this  harmless  receipt  in  the 
hands  of  Saint-Just;  and  then— 

Gregoire  sat  iii  a  cold  sweat,  saying  at  intervals: 
"  I  am  lost.  Let  me  go." 

"  Xot  quite  yet.     Give  me  ten  louis." 

"I— I  can't.     I  left  the  money  at  home." 

"Thou  art  lying.  I  heard  it  rattle  when  I  shook 
thee.  I  might  take  it  all.  I  am  generous,  just,  like 
the  incorruptible  man  with  the  green  around  his  eyes, 
one  Robespierre.  Come,  now." 

Gregoire,  reluctant,  counted  out  the  gold.  "Let 
me  go,"  he  said.  There  were  scarce  left  in  him  the 
dregs  of  a  man.  He  rose,  pale  and  tottering. 

"  Xot  quite  yet,  ray  friend.  Thou  wilt  wait  here  a 
little  while.  Then  a  citizen  hag  will  come  up  and  let 
thee  out.  But  be  careful ;  110  noise.  The  gentlemen 
who  inhabit  this  mansion  like  not  to  be  disturbed 
in  their  devotions.  Moreover,  they  are  curious,  and 
generally  inquisitive  as  to  purses.  Thou  hast  a  few 
hours  for  reflection  on  thy  sins.  Pray  understand 
that  this  little  paper  will  be  put  in  the  hands  of  a 
friend  of  the  marquis  ;  I  shall  not  keep  it.  The  trap 
will  be  well  set.  Am  I  clear  ? " 

The  commissioner  made  no  reply. 

"  I  forgot,"  said  Frangois.  "  Here  is  thy  letter.  I 
keep  my  word.  The  receipt  is  enough." 

16 


266      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

The  compromising  document  lay  on  the  table,  un 
noticed  by  Gregoire.  He  fell  back,  limp  and  cowed, 
gripping  the  seat  with  both  hands  to  save  himself  from 
slipping  out  of  the  chair.  The  sweat  ran  down  his 
face.  When  Francois,  calling  to  the  poodle,  left  him 
alone,  he  made  no  motion ;  he  was  like  a  beaten  cur. 

"  Come,  Toto,"  said  Francois,  as  he  locked  the  door. 
"  That  for  his  wart !  It  is  not  as  big  as  it  used  to  be, 
and  it  is  not  in  the  middle  of  his  nose."  He  went 
down  to  the  room  of  the  concierge,  and  threw  the  key 
of  his  room  in  her  lap. 

"  He  is  very  quiet,  thy  patient  up-stairs ;  he  hath  a 
chill." 

Quatre  Pattes,  standing  by,  nodded,  and  looked  up. 
"  Is  he  alive  ?  No  lies,  young  man." 

" Alive?  Not  quite;  only  well  scared.  Imagine 
thyself  one  day  on  the  red  stair,  and  the  basket  all 
ready,  and  so  neat,— thou  art  fond  of  neatness,— all 
as  clean  as  thy  room ;  and  the  knife — 

"  Shut  up  that  big  jaw  !  I  am  Quatre  Pattes.  Dost 
thou  want  to  frighten  me  ? " 

"  I  ?  By  St.  Fiacre,  110 !  I  only  want  to  let  thee 
understand  how  the  citizen  on  the  fourth  floor  feels." 

"He  will  bleed  the  better,  my  dear."  She  rattled 
the  sticks,  and  looked  up  at  Francois,  her  head  sway 
ing  as  the  head  of  the  cobra  sways.  She  was  still  in 
some  doubt  as  to  this  too  ready  pupil,  whom  she  had 
taught  so  much.  "Art  thou  trying  to  fool  Mother 
Quatre  Pattes  ? " 

"Oh,  stuff!  Go  up  and  speak  to  the  man.  But 
take  care ;  this  is  no  light  matter  to  put  thy  claws 
into.  The  man  will  rage ;  but  a  day  without  diet  will 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  267 

quiet  him  a  good  bit.  Then  thou  canst  begin  to  make 
thy  little  commercial  arrangement." 

"Two  hundred— three  hundred.  No  rags,  no  as- 
signats." 

"  Might  get  four  hundred,  Mother  Crabby.  There 
will  be  two  sides  to  the  question." 

The  old  woman  laughed  a  laugh  shrill  and  virulent. 

"Two  sides?     I  see— inside  and  outside.    All  right." 

Francois  stood  in  the  doorway  as  she  spoke. 

"  By-by,  maman;  and  don't  frighten  him  too  much. 
Thy  style  of  beauty  is  not  to  the  taste  of  all  men. 
Folks  are  really  afraid  of  thee,  maman.  Don't  make 
it  a  part  of  the  bargain  that  he  marry  thee." 

"  Good  idea,  that !     And  when  shall  I  see  thee  ?" 

"  Possibly  to-morrow ;  certainly  within  a  week  or 
so.  I  may  have  a  few  days'  work  for  the  committee 
in  Villefranche — dirty  country,  filthy  inns,  not  like 
thy  room  " ;  and  he  glanced  at  it.  "  I  always  do  like 
to  see  how  neat  it  is,  and  how  clean.  It  would  please 
Sanson.  He  is  so  particular ;  keeps  things  clean  and 
ready— always  ready." 

"  ?T  is  true,"  said  Quatre  Pattes,  and  clattered  away 
up  the  hall. 

Francois  heard  her  sticks  on  the  stair,  and  her  shrill 
laughter.  "  Thy  cheese  is  poisoned,  old  rat,"  he  said. 

Once  secure  of  the  absence  of  his  too  observant 
landlady,  Francois  called  to  Toto  and  went  out  of  the 
house.  It  was  now  about  half-past  one.  No  suspi 
cious  persons  were  visible.  He  had  doubted  this 
Gregoire.  He  had  no  mind  to  leave  Paris,  but  when 
asking  a  passport  he  meant  that  Gregoire  should  think 
he  had  done  so.  He  moved  away,  with  the  dog  at 


268     THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FKANgOIS 

his  heels,  and  presently  stood  awhile  in  deep  thought, 
at  the  end  of  the  street.  Gregoire  was  safe ;  he  could 
harm  no  one  for  a  day,  and  after  that  would  be  the 
last  man  in  Paris  to  trouble  Francois.  Amar  was  to 
be  feared,  but  that  was  to  be  left  to  chance  and  cau 
tious  care.  Quatre  Pattes?  He  smiled.  "'T  is  as 
fine  as  a  play,  Toto.  Here  comes  the  last  act.  Can 
we  go  away  and  not  see  it  ? "  He  looked  back.  The 
shoemaker  whom  the  Crab  had  wished  him  to  de 
nounce,  with  a  view  to  the  eternal  settlement  of  her 
debts,  was  standing  at  his  door  in  the  sun,  just  oppo 
site  to  No.  33  bis.  It  was  a  good  little  man,  lame  of 
a  leg,  hard-working  and  timid. 

"It  is  not  to  be  resisted,  Toto.  Come,  my  boy." 
He  went  back,  and  pulled  the  bell  at  No.  33  bis.  No 
one  answered.  He  rang  three  times,  and  became  sure 
that,  as  he  had  anticipated,  the  Crab  had  at  once 
gone  up  to  see  how  much  of  truth  there  was  in  his 
statement. 

Thus  assured,  he  looked  about  him.  He  saw  no  one 
he  had  need  to  fear.  He  crossed  the  street,  and  spoke 
to  the  cobbler. 

"  Come  into  thy  shop ;  I  want  to  speak  to  thee." 
"When  within,  he  said :  "  I  have  been  arrested,  and 
let  out — praise  be  to  the  saints  !  I  have  just  now  seen 
the  old  Crab.  She  owes  thee  money  ? " 

"  Not  much." 

"  No  matter.  She  has  asked  me  to  denounce  thee, 
my  poor  friend.  I  came  to  warn  thee." 

The  cobbler  gasped.  "  Dieu!  and  my  little  ones  ! 
I  have  done  nothing— I  assure  thee,  nothing." 

"Nor  I,  my  friend.    Now,  listen.    I  am  lucky  enough 


•HE  PULLED   THE  BELL   AT   >To.  33   CIS.1 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FEANgOIS  271 

to  be  iu  a  little  employment  for  the  Great  Committee. 
I  mean  to  save  tliee.'' 

"  And  eanst  thou  do  that  ? " 

''Yes,  yes.  Something  will  happen  to-morrow, 
about  four  o'clock;  and  after  that  no  fear  of  the  hag. 
I  must  see  it ;  it  is  my  business.  Can  I  stay  a  day— I 
mean  until  then — in  the  .little  room  here  above  thy 
shop  ? " 

'•Why  not?  The  children  are  with  my  sister.  They 
shall  stay  till  to-morrow  night." 

He  followed  the  overjoyed  cobbler  up  to  the  room 
above  his  shop,  sent  him  out  to  buy  food  and  wine, 
and  sat  down  to  await  events.  The  cobbler  came  back 
with  a  supply  of  diet  and  the  gazettes.  Francois  sat 
behind  the  slats  of  the  green  window-shades,  and 
laughed,  or  talked  to  Toto,  or  read,  while  at  intervals 
he  watched  No.  33  bis.  He  read  of  how  Charleroi  had 
been  taken,  and  of  the  recovery  of  Fleurus.  It  in 
terested  him  but  little. 

'•  They  have  cut  off  the  head  of  the  devil,  and  got 
a  new  god,  my  good  poodle.  Tenez!  Hold  !  Atten 
tion  ! "  He  saw  Quatre  Pattes  clatter  out.  It  was 
about  4  p.  M.  She  had  no  market-net.  She  was  de 
cisively  bent  on  some  errand,  and  moved  with  unusual 
celerity,  her  back  bent,  her  head  strained  upward  to 
get  a  sufficient  horizon. 

'•It  is  altogether  pleasant,  ami.  She  will  not  wait 
till  twelve  to-morrow.  She  has  gone  to  denounce  him. 
Get  up.  Here  is  a  nice  bite  for  thee.  She  is  shrewd, 
our  snake.  If  she  plunders  M.  Gregoire,— and  she 
will,  too,— she  knows  what  he  will  do  wrhen  he  is  out. 
He  will  denounce  her.  The  play  is  good,  Toto.  The 


272  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

money  she  will  have,  if  we  know  her.  But,  mon  ami, 
if  he  makes  her  believe  through  the  door  that  he  is 
the  great  Gregoire  of  the  wart,  and  she  lets  him  out, 
and  is  scared,  and  asks  no  pay,  Toto,  't  is  neverthe 
less  a  scotched  snake  she  will  be.  The  Wart  will  want 
to  be  revenged  for  low  diet  and  loss  of  the  republic's 
time.  Mordieu!  Toto,  let  us  bet  on  it." 

He  read  his  gazettes,  and  waited.  At  six  that  after 
noon  the  Crab  came  home.  At  nine  Francois  went  to 
bed.  Twice  he  awakened,  laughing ;  he  was  thinking 
about  Gregoire.  The  cobbler  came  in  at  six  with 
breakfast,  and  Francois  warned  him  to  be  careful. 

At  ten  in  the  morning  Quatre  Pattes  appeared  at 
her  door,  and  chatted  with  one  or  two  dames  of  the 
fish-market.  She  rattled  her  sticks,  and  talked  volubly. 
She  was  in  the  best  of  humors. 

No  new  thing  took  place  till  three  o'clock,  when 
two  municipal  guards  paused  at  her  door.  She  came 
forth,  spoke  to  them,  and  went  in,  leaving  the  door 
open.  A  third  joined  them.  They  loitered  about. 
Ten  minutes  went  by.  Francois  grew  more  and  more 
eager  as  he  watched. 

"  Ho,  ho,  Toto,"  he  exclaimed,  "  there  was  a  noise ! 
The  fool !  she  has  gone  up  alone  to  let  him  out." 

It  was  true.  Gregoire  had  yielded  in  all  some  three 
hundred  francs,  and,  as  ordered,  had  slipped  the  money 
under  the  door,  piece  by  piece,  while  Quatre  Pattes  sat 
and  counted  it  with  eyes  of  greed.  She  came  down 
and  hid  the  last  of  it.  Now  she  went  up  again,  rather 
liking  the  errand.  She  was  absolutely  fearless.  She 
opened  the  door,  and  stood  aside.  "  Come  out,"  she 
said,  "  little  man." 


'THE   LITTLE  TRAP  DID  WORK,'  CRIED   FRANCOIS,  BEHIND  HIS   SCREEN. 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANC;OIS  275 

Gregoire  was  past  restraining  his  rage.  "She- 
devil  ! "  he  cried,  and  struck  at  her  in  a  fury  of  pas 
sion.  He  ran  past  her  down  the  stairs,  the  terrible 
woman  after  him.  She  was  wonderfully  quick,  but 
the  man's  fear  was  quicker.  At  the  last  stairway  she 
found  him  beyond  her  reach,  and,  cursing  him  in 
fluent  slaug.of  the  quarter,  she  threw  one  of  her  sticks 
at  him.  It  caught  him  on  the  back  of  the  neck,  and 
he  fell  headlong  into  the  hallway.  In  an  instant  he 
was  up  and  staggering  into  the  street.  As  he  came 
forth  two  guards  seized  him.  "  In  the  name  of  the 
law  !  "  Quatre  Pattes  came  swiftly  after  him,  scream 
ing  out :  ••  Take  him  !  I  denounce  him  !  He  is  an 
aristocrat ! " 

What  she  and  Francois  saw  was  unpleasant  for  her. 

'•  Xom  de  del!  't  is  the  Citizen  Gregoire  !  "  cried  the 
third  guard. 

Gregoire  was  for  an  instant  speechless  and  breath 
less.  The  guards  fell  back. 

"Arrest  me? — me,  Gregoire!  Have  you  an  order 
to  arrest  me  ? "  He  was  not  quite  at  ease. 

"  No,  no,  citizen.  It  is  clearly  a  mistake.  We  were 
to  arrest  a  ci-devant" 

Quatre  Pattes  stood  up,  pallid. 

"  Take  this  woman  !  "  cried  Gregoire.  "  I  will  send 
an  order.  The  Chatelet,  and  quick  !  " 

''The  little  trap  did  work,"  cried  FranQois,  behind 
his  screen.  "How  she  squeals— like  a  pig,  a  pig! 
She  will  give  up  the  money.  The  citizens  and  she 
disappear  within." 

"  This  woman  stole  it !  "  roared  the  great  man,  as 
they  came  out.  "  Take  her  away." 


276  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

When  they  came  to  lay  final  hands  on  her,  she 
was  like  a  cat  in  a  corner. 

"  Chien  de  mon  time  !  't  is  a  fine  scrimmage,"  cried 
Francois,  "and  the  street  full." 

The  sticks  rattled ;  and  when  they  were  torn  from 
her,  she  used  tooth  and  claw,  to  the  joy  of  a  crowd 
appreciative  of  personal  prowess.  At  last  she  was 
carried  away,  screaming,  and  exhausted  as  to  all  but 
her  tongue. 

The  commissioner  with  the  wart  readjusted  his 
garments  and  his  dignity.  The  crowd  cried :  "  Vive 
Gregoire!"  and  the  hungry  Jacobin  went  his  way, 
furious,  in  search  of  dietetic  consolation. 

"  The  show  is  over,  Toto,"  said  Francois,  as  he  sat 
down. 

Presently  came  the  cobbler,  curious,  and  much 
relieved. 

"  Ask  no  questions,"  said  Francois.  "  Here  is  a  little 
money." 

"  But,  citizen,  it  is  a  gold  louis." 

"  The  show  was  worth  the  price  of  admission.  Thou 
art  welcome.  Hold  thy  tongue,  if  thou  art  wise.  At 
dusk  I  shall  slip  out.  Thou  art  safe.  The  Crab  will 
denounce  no  more  of  her  neighbors." 

"  Two  she  hath  sent  to  the  knife,"  said  the  cobbler. 

"  Dieu!  how  the  tricoteuses  will  grin !  " 


XXIII 

Of  how  Francois  found  lodgings  where  he  paid  no  rent 
—  Of  the  death  of  Toto—Of  how  his  -master,  having 
no  friends  on  the  earth,  finds  them  underground. 

(T  dusk  Francois  went  out,  and  was  soon 
moving1  rapidly  across  Paris.  He  was 
in  search  of  lodging,  food,  and  security. 
In  an  hour  or  less  he  was  in  the  half- 
peopled  quarter  of  St.  Antoine.  Near  the 
barrier  he  turned  aside,  and  stood  considering  a  little 
house  in  what  seemed  to  have  been  a  well-kept  garden. 
On  the  gate  was  the  large  red  seal  of  the  republic.  It 
was  safe  for  a  night.  If  he  took  a  lodging,  he  must 
show  all  his  papers,  and  have  his  name  set  out,  with 
his  business,  on  a  placard  such  as  was  nailed  to  the 
outer  door  of  every  house  in  Paris.  His  name,  as  a 
new  lodger,  must  be  reported  to  the  sectional  com 
mittee.  He  was  widely  known,  and,  alas  !  too  peculiar 
to  escape  notice  long.  Now  he  needed  time  to  think. 
He  wandered  awhile,  ate  in  a  small  cafe,  bought  wine 
and  bread,  at  night  climbed  the  garden  wall,  and 
without  much  trouble  found  his  way  into  the  house. 
It  was  a  sorry  sight.  The  arrests  must  have  been 
sudden  and  pitiless.  The  kettle  stood  on  the  dead 

277 


278      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FEANgOIS 

embers.  The  bread,  burned  black,  was  in  the  oven. 
A  half-knit  stocking  lay  on  a  chair.  Up-stairs  and 
down,  it  was  the  same.  The  open  drawers  showed 
evidence  of  search.  A  dead  bird  lay  starved  in  a  cage. 
The  beds  were  unmade.  The  clock  had  stopped.  He 
found  some  scant  provisions,  unfit  for  use.  It  seemed 
a  gardener's  house.  The  place  oppressed  him,  but  it 
answered  his  purpose.  His  dog  troubled  him.  Toto 
was,  like  himself,  conspicuous,  and  he  felt  forced 
during  the  daytime  to  leave  him  locked  up  in  the 
house.  But  Toto  was  sagacious,  and  had  learned  to 
keep  quiet.  For  several  days  Francois  lived  at  day 
light  in  the  streets  and  cafes,  returning  at  night,  to 
get  away  again  before  dawn.  In  the  quiet  little 
taverns  where  he  went  for  food  and  shelter  he  made 
himself  small,  and  hid  in  corners ;  nor,  at  this  time, 
did  he  laugh  much.  He  bought  the  gazettes,  and  read 
them  with  intelligent  apprehension  of  the  fact  that 
change  was  in  the  air.  Robespierre  had  never  had 
with  him  a  majority  of  his  colleagues,  and  now  he  was 
becoming  more  and  more  conscious  of  his  insecure 
hold  on  the  Convention.  As  long  as  the  ex-nobles  or 
the  foes  of  the  republic  suffered,  it  was  of  little  mo 
ment  to  the  representatives ;  but  when  the  craving  for 
blood,  not  justified  by  any  political  reasons,  sent  too 
many  of  their  body  to  the  block,  the  unease  of  the 
Terror  began  to  be  felt  within  their  own  hall.  To  be 
timid,  cautious,  or  obscure  had  once  been  security. 
It  was  so  no  longer.  That  terrible  master  still  had 
his  way,  and,  one  by  one,  the  best  brains  of  the  oppo 
nents  of  the  Jacobins  were  sent  to  perish  on  the 
scaffold.  The  Convention  began  to  feel  the  need  for 


THE  ADVENTURES  OP  FRANgOIS      279 

associative  self-defense.  Kevenge,  fear,  and  policy 
combined  to  aid  the  enemies  of  this  extraordinary 
person.  Like  Marat,  he  began  to  show  physically 
the  effects  of  a  life  full  of  alarms ;  for  this  monster 
dreaded  darkness,  trembled  at  unusual  noises,  and 
remained  to  the  last  the  most  carefully  dressed  man 
in  Paris.  To  understand  him  at  all,  one  must  credit 
him  in  his  early  political  life  with  a  sincere  love  of 
country,  and  with  willingness  to  sacrifice  himself  for 
others.  It  is  impossible  to  regard  him  as  entirely 
sound  of  mind  at  a  later  date.  He  became  something 
monstrous — a  mixture  of  courage,  cowardice,  blood- 
madness,  self-esteem,  and  personal  vanity.  But  there 
were  men  who  loved  him  to  the  last. 

It  was  now  early  in  July,  the  month  Thermidor. 
Frangois  began,  as  usual,  to  weary  of  a  life  of  monot 
onous  carefulness.  His  supply  of  money  was  ample. 
He  was  well  fed  and,  so  far,  safe.  He  sat  night  after 
night  in  darkness,  and  thought  of  the  lady  of  the 
chateau.  He  knew  that  her  father  was  thus  far  se 
cure  ;  his  name  was  not  in  the  daily  lists  of  the  victims ; 
and  these  were  many,  for  on  the  22d  Prairial  (June 
10)  a  decree  deprived  the  accused  of  counsel,  and  of 
the  right  to  call  witnesses.  The  end  was  near. 

One  evening  about  nine,  as  he  came  near  to  the 
garden,  he  saw  lights  in  the  house.  Toto  was  found 
waiting  outside  of  the  gate.  A  girl  came  forth,  and 
soon  returned  with  a  net  of  vegetables. 

"  del!  Toto,"  said  Francois,  "  the  poor  things  have 
been  released,  and  thou  wert  clever  to  get  out.  We 
are  glad,  thou  and  I ;  but  they  have  our  house."  He 
had  left  nothing  at  this  lodging,  having  nothing  to 


280  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

leave.  He  walked  away,  puzzled,  and,  wandering, 
scarce  aware  of  whither  he  went,  found  himself  at 
last  in  the  Rue  de  Seine.  It  was  getting  late,  and  lie 
began  to  look  about  him  for  a  new  lodging. 

"  We  must  find  an  empty  house,  Toto.  The  seal  of 
this  cursed  republic  is  our  best  chance.'7  He  did  not 
need  to  look  far.  In  the  Rue  de  Seine  he  came  upon 
a  small  two-story  shop.  Beside  it  was  a  wide  gate 
way,  on  which  he  saw  with  difficulty,  but  felt  readily, 
the  seal  no  one  dared  to  violate.  He  concluded  that 
there  must  be  a  deserted  house  beyond  it,  in  a 
garden.  He  passed  around  by  the  quai,  and  entered 
the  Rue  des  Petits-Augustines,  and  stood  before  the 
mansion  of  Ste.  Luce.  A  light  was  in  an  upper  room. 
Some  one  was  in  charge.  On  either  side  were  railings 
and  a  garden.  It  was  now  ten  o'clock,  and  110  one 
visible  in  the  long  street  of  old  houses,  once  the  homes 
of  the  great  French  nobles.  He  pushed  the  poodle 
between  the  rails,  and  readily  pulled  himself  up  and 
dropped  at  his  side.  Once  within,  he  moved  with  care 
across  to  the  wall  behind  the  mansion,  and  soon  saw 
that  he  was  not  in  the  garden  of  the  marquis,  but  in 
the  larger  domain  of  the  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld- 
Liancourt.  His  object  was  to  find  his  way  into  the 
house  which  had  an  outlet  on  the  Rue  de  Seine.  As 
he  was  arranging  his  clothing  to  climb  a  tree  near  to 
the  wall,  he  suddenly  paused.  "  Toto,"  he  exclaimed, 
"we  have  been  robbed, — wTe — first-class  thieves,— and 
we  know  not  when  it  was.  Ah,  it  was  at  that  cafe, 
as  we  came  out.  Well  done,  too.  Not  a  sou.  Weep, 
Toto  ;  we  are  broken." 

He  lost  no  more  time  in  lamentation,  but  climbed 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  281 

the  tree,  looked  over,  came  down,  pulled  up  the  dog, 
and  descended  011  the  farther  side  of  the  wall. 

He  was  now  in  a  small  garden.  Near  him,  and 
close  to  the  wall,  was  a  little  plant-houso.  On  the 
farther  side  of  a  grassy  space  stood  a  hotel  of  moder 
ate  size,  with  the  front  court,  as  he  presumed,  opening 
on  the  Rue  de  Seine.  On  each  side,  as  he  saw  clearly, 
for  the  night  was  bright  and  the  moxm  rising,  there 
were  high  flanking  walls.  After  assuring  himself  that 
the  house  was  empty,  Francois  fouiid«a  trellis  covered 
with  old  vines,  and,  climbing  this,  entered  the  hotel  by 
a  convenient  balcony.  He  was  safe  for  the  night,  and 
at  leisure  to  explore  his  new  dwelling.  He  feared  to 
strike  a  light,  but  he  could  see  dimly  that  there  were 
pictures,  books,  china.  Evidently  this  had  been  the 
home  of  people  of  wealth.  As  the  moon  rose  higher, 
he  saw  still  better,  and  began  to  realize  the  fact  that 
here  were  evidences  of  hasty  flight.  In  a  room  on  the 
second  floor  was  a  secretary,  and  this  Francois  readily 
opened. 

"  Toto,"  he  said,  "  we  are  rich  again."  He  had 
found  forty  louis  in  a  canvas  bag  which  comfortably 
fitted  his  side  pocket.  In  the  larder  he  came  upon 
meat,  cooked  and  uncooked,  mostly  unfit  for  use,  stale 
bread,  and  cheese.  Once  satisfied,  he  went  over  the 
house,  and  then  the  garden,  taking  pains  at  last  to 
set  a  ladder  against  the  wall  of  the  Rochefoucauld 
property. 

The  glass-house  was  in  disorder,  the  plants  lying 
about,  uncared  for.  His  foot  struck  an  iron  ring  at 
tached  to  a  trap-door.  There  were  staples  for  pad 
locking  it,  but  no  padlock.  He  concluded  this  to  be 


282      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

the  opening  to  a  wine-cave  or  -cellar,  and  lifted  the 
trap.  It  was  dark  below.  He  ventured  down  the 
steps  a  little  way,  and  then  stood  still  to  listen.  Hear 
ing  noises  below  him,  he  retreated  in  haste.  He  was, 
as  has  been  said,  superstitions. 

"  That  is  strange !  We  will  look  about  when  it 
is  day,  Toto— not  now." 

Concluding  to  sleep  out  of  doors,  he  accordingly 
arranged  for  his  comfort  by  taking  a  pillow  and 
blankets  from  the  house ;  for  now  he  had  opened  a 
door  below,  and  was  in  full  possession.  Suites  of 
apartments  which  he  dared  not  use  for  sleep,  and  a 
pretty  little  library,  overlooked  the  small  estate  of  the 
garden. 

No  occupied  dwelling  was  in  view.  Great  trees  in 
the  grounds  of  La  Rochefoucauld  and  Ste.  Luce  par 
tially  hid  the  houses,  and,  what  was  of  more  moment, 
shut  off  the  sight  of  Francois's  refuge.  It  was,  of 
course,  possible  that  at  any  time  he  might  be  dis 
turbed  by  the  coming  of  the  officers,  or,  what  was  to 
be  feared  less,  that  of  the  owners.  But  he  was  not 
a  man  to  be  continually  anxious.  The  outer  front 
door  had  a  bar,  and  this  he  dropped  into  its  socket. 
The  side  walls  were  high.  He  could  hear  any  one 
who  attempted  to  enter.  His  way  out  at  the  back 
was  made  easy  by  the  ladder  he  had  set  in  place.  At 
dusk  he  began  to  be  fully  at  ease,  and  after  a  day  or 
two  was  hardly  less  so  in  the  sun-lit  hours. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  much  at  home, 
he  sat  behind  the  little  plant-house,  with  Toto  at  his 
feet,  and  a  book  in  his  hand,  for  in  the  library  he 
found  several  which  excited  his  interest.  Now  he 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  283 

was  deep  in  a  French  translation  of  the  travels  of 
Marco  Polo.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  noise  of  steps. 
He  fell  back,  caught  Toto  with  a  warning  grasp  on 
the  jaw,  and  lay  still.  He  was  so  hidden  in  the  nar 
row  space  between  the  plant-house  and  the  wall  of 
the  garden  as  to  be  for  the  time  secure.  No  longer 
hearing  anything  alarming,  he  rose  and  looked  cau 
tiously  through  the  double  glass  and  the  sheltering 
plants  which  were  between  himself  and  the  mansion. 
In  a  few  minutes  a  tall  man  came  out  of  the  plant- 
house,  went  into  the  dwelling,  and  by  and  by  returning 
with  blankets  and  a  basket,  passed  into  the  plant- 
house,  and  was  lost  to  sight.  He  soon  came  out 
again  with  a  lad,  and  after  several  such  journeys  to 
the  main  house,  whence  each  time  he  fetched  some 
thing,  they  reentered  the  plant-house,  and  came  forth 
no  more. 

This  incident  greatly  amazed  the  thief.  "  Toto,"  he 
said,  "  there  must  be  a  trap  below !  'T  is  a  lower 
cellar  it  leads  to,  and  there  are  people  beneath.  Ht'las, 
Toto !  no  sooner  are  we  gentlemen  with  an  estate 
than,  presto !  a  change,  and  it  is  get  up  and  go.  It 
were  better  we  took  to  the  woods  and  saw  far  countries, 
like  this  M.  Polo."  Toto  regarded  his  master  with 
attentive  eyes,  the  long  black  tail  wagging.  He  seemed 
to  comprehend  Francois's  difficulties,  or  at  least  to  feel 
some  vague  desire  to  help  and  comfort. 

"Yes,  yes;  it  is  time  we  settled  down,  won  ami. 
Behold,  we  get  a  little  money  and  wherewithal  to 
live ;  we  hurt  no  one ;  we  cultivate  our  minds  with 
travel ;  we  start  fresh,  and  are  honest,  having  enough, 
—which  is  a  good  foundation  for  honesty,— and  then 


284     THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

— eh  Men!  my  friend;  let  us  laugh";  and  he  lay  on 
his  back,  and  tumbled  the  dog  about. 

He  was  in  the  garden,  near  to  the  dwelling,  a  day 
later,  when  he  heard  noises  as  of  steps  in  the  La 
Rochefoucauld  grounds.  He  climbed  the  ladder,  and, 
without  showing  himself,  listened.  There  were  voices, 
and  now  and  then  he  caught  a  phrase.  These  were 
municipal  guards.  He  beckoned  to  Toto,  and,  cross 
ing  the  garden,  entered  the  house,  meaning  to  watch 
his  new  neighbors  from  a  window. 

He  went  up-stairs  to  the  third  story  under  the  roof. 
As  he  moved  toward  a  window,  he  heard  a  sound 
below.  He  ran  down  the  stair,  and  stood  on  the 
lower  landing-place,  facing  the  front  door.  "  We  are 
gone,  Toto !  "  For  once  he  was  at  a  loss,  and  stood 
still,  in  doubt  what  to  do. 

There  were  voices  outside.  The  hall  door  had  been 
unlocked,  but  the  bar  held  it  fast.  After  a  minute  or 
two  they  seemed  to  have  given  up  the  idea  of  enter 
ing.  Francois  waited  a  few  minutes,  and  began  to 
descend  the  stairs.  Then  he  heard  quick  footfalls  in 
the  room  to  the  left  on  the  level  of  the  landing  above 
him.  Some  one  must  have  entered  by  a  window  on 
the  second  floor.  He  turned,  perplexed,  instinctively 
drew  his  useless  pistol,  and  began  to  go  faster.  Sud 
denly  the  steps  above  him  quickened. 

A  man  on  the  staircase  landing  behind  him  cried : 
"  Halloo  !  Surrender,  in  the  name  of  the  republic  !  " 
Francois  jumped,  taking  the  stairs  below  him  in  one 
leap,  but,  tripping  over  Toto,  fell  headlong  in  the  hall. 
The  dog  sprang  after  him,  and  alighted  on  his  master's 
back.  A  pistol-shot  rang  out.  The  dog  fell  dead  with  a 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  285 

ball  in  his  brain.  Francois  was  on  his  feet.  He  cast  a 
glance  at  the  faithful  friend  of  many  a  day.  His  own 
long,  strange  face  became  like  that  of  a  madman. 
He  dashed  up  the  stair,  a  second  ball  missing  him 
narrowly.  Through  the  smoke  he  bounded  on  his 
enemy.  He  caught  the  man  by  the  right  arm,  wrested 
the  pistol  from  him,  and,  scarce  feeling  a  blow  from 
the  fellow's  left  hand,  struck  him  full  in  the  face  with 
the  butt  of  the  pistol.  The  blood  flew,  and  the  man 
staggered,  screaming.  A  second  blow  and  a  third  fell. 
Twisting  his  victim  around,  Francois  hurled  him  down 
the  stair. 

"  Beast !  "  he  cried ;  and,  leaping  over  him,  stooped 
a  moment,  kissed  the  quivering  little  body  of  his  friend, 
and,  with  tears  streaming  from  his  eyes,  stood  still. 
Loud  cries  from  beyond  the  wall  of  the  garden  recalled 
his  energies.  The  noise  at  the  door  was  heard  again. 
He  ran  out  and  across  into  the  plant-house,  pulled 
up  the  trap,  and,  descending,  closed  it.  Then  he  stood 
puzzled.  It  was  dark ;  he  could  see  nothing.  He  fell 
on  his  knees,  and  began  hastily  to  grope  about  until 
he  felt  an  iron  ring  attached  to  the  trap-door  of  what 
he  presumed  to  be  the  entrance  to  a  yet  lower  cellar. 

"  It  is  this  or  death,"  he  muttered  under  his  breath, 
and  stood  reflecting,  having  heard  no  sounds  ap 
proaching  overhead.  Thinking  it  better  to  see  and 
be  seen  by  those  below,  he  struck  his  flint  on  the  steel, 
and,  with  the  aid  of  a  morsel  of  paper  and  his  kindling 
breath,  soon  had  a  light.  Then  he  saw  near  by  a 
lantern  with  a  candle  within  it.  He  lighted  it,  and  held 
it  in  one  hand.  This  done,  he  knelt  again,  and  with 
a  quick  movement  set  open  the  trap-doorway.  What 

17 


286      THE  ADVENT UEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

he  saw  was  a  man  and  the  muzzle  of  a  pistol.  The 
man  cried  out :  "  If  you  move,  you  are  dead !  " 

"  I  am  not  a  municipal,  monsieur.  I  am  only  a 
thief.  Let  me  come  down,  for  God's  sake !  I  am 
flying  from  those  rascals  who  are  in  the  house." 

11 1  have  half  a  mind  to  blow  your  brains  out." 

"  del !  I  hope  you  will  not  have  a  whole  mind.  It 
would  only  call  those  scoundrels.  I  stole  a  little  from 
the  house— I  return  it";  and  he  dropped  the  bag  of 
louis.  It  fell  on  the  head  of  a  small  boy  below,  unseen 
in  the  gloom.  He  howled  lustily. 

"  Diantre!  keep  quiet !  "  cried  the  man. 

"  Oh,  let  him  come  down,  duke ;  he  is  welcome." 
It  was  the  voice  of  a  woman  out  of  the  deep  darkness. 
Tender  and  clear  it  was. 

"  Be  quick,  then,  rascal !     Down  with  you." 

The  thief  waited  for  no  second  invitation.  The 
duke  descended ;  Francois's  long  legs  came  after.  He 
paused  to  arrange  some  loose  staves,  that,  in  falling, 
they  might  conceal  the  trap.  Then  he  blew  out  the 
candle,  and  was  in  total  darkness,  but  where  or  with 
whom  he  knew  not. 

"Have  a  care  how  you  move,"  said  the  voice  of  the 
woman.  "We  are  in  great  peril.  Come  down 
quietly." 

"  May  all  the  saints  bless  you  !  "  said  Francois,  and 
sat  down  on  the  lower  step.  For  a  while  all  was 
still. 


XXIV 

Of  how  Francois  got  into  good  society  underground— Of 
what  he  saw,  and  of  the  value  of  a  cafs  eyes— From 
darkness  to  light— Of  how  Francois  made  friends  for 
life. 

was  dark  indeed;  I  had  never  imagined 
such  darkness,"  says  Francois  in  his 
memoirs.1  He  adds  that  he  has  heard 
the  story  of  this  wonderful  escape  from 
the  catacombs  told  over  and  over  by 
M.  des  Illes.  He  does  not  consider  that  it  did  him 
(Francois),  the  principal  person,  sufficient  justice.  He 
had  also  heard  the  old  Dnke  Philippe  relate  the  matter, 
and  it  was  incredible  how  crooked  he  got  it.  But,  then, 
Duke  Philippe  was  a  man  who  had  no  sense  of  humor. 
As  to  his  dear  Mme.  des  Illes,  when  she  did  tell  this 
story,  the  baby  was  the  chief  hero.  Duke  Henri, — 
that  is,  the  present  man, — although  only  a  lad  when 
these  events  took  place,  remembered  them  well. 

"  When  he  was  seventeen,"  says  Francois,  "  we  used 
to  fence  together.  I  have  often  heard  him  relate  to 
the  other  young  fellows  how  we  made  our  escape ;  but 
Duke  Henri  has  too  much  imagination,  and  that,  you 
see,  makes  a  man  inaccurate.  I  knew  two  very  ac- 

1  See  Epilogue. 

287 


288  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

complished  thieves  who  were  inaccurate.  I  am  not. 
Duke  Henri's  tale  got  stronger,  like  wine,  as  time 
went  on.  The  rats  grew  to  be  of  the  size  of  cats ; 
three  of  them  pulled  the  baby  out  of  madamc's  lap. 
And  as  to  the  people  we  killed,  it  would  have  satisfied 
M.  Dumas,  who  is  the  greatest  and  most  correct  of 
such  as  write  history." 

The  present  author  grieves  that  he  has  not  the 
narration  of  this  famous  escape  at  the  hands  of  Mme. 
des  Illes  and  the  two  dukes,  father  and  son.  Those 
who  have  found  leisure  to  read  "A  Little  More  Bur 
gundy"  have  heard  Des  Illes's  narrative  as  M.  des 
Illes  related  it.  Those  who  have  not  read  that  ren 
dering  may  incline  to  hear  Francois's  own  statement 
of  what  happened  after  he  thus  found  himself  in 
darkness  with  people  he  had  never  seen.  I  have 
followed  his  memoir  pretty  closely.  It  tells  some 
things  of  which  the  other  people  concerned  did  not 
know.  Evidently  he  considered  it  a  less  tragic  affair 
than  did  they.  It  has  been  needful  to  condense 
Francois's  account,  and  to  do  this  especially  where 
he  speaks  of  his  own  intermediate  adventures,  which 
were  singular  enough. 

When,  as  I  have  said,  Francois,  obeying  Duke 
Philippe,  put  out  his  lantern,  he  sat  still  awhile,  and 
said  nothing.  Like  the  rest,  he  was  fearful  lest  the 
officers  he  had  disturbed  so  rudely  should  make  a 
too  effective  search.  Their  inspection  of  the  upper 
cellar  would  be  perilous  enough.  The  anxious  people 
beneath  held  their  breaths  when  a  man  overhead 
stumbled  across  the  staves  the  thief  had  set  to  fall 
on  the  trap-door.  After  a  while  all  noises  faded 


THE   ADVENTURES   OP   FRANCOIS  289 

away,  and  in  tho  evening  the  duke  proposed  to  rec- 
oimoiter  once  more ;  but  when  he  tried  to  lift  the  trap, 
it  was  found  impossible  to  do  so.  The  municipals,  in 
their  examination,  must  have  rolled  a  full  barrel  of 
wine  upon  the  door.  This  discovery  was,  or  seemed, 
an  overwhelming-  calamity. 

Francois  during  the  day  came  to  understand  that 
here  in  the  darkness  were  Duke  Philippe  de  St.  Maur, 
his  son  Henri,  a  lad,  another  rather  older  boy,  Des 
Illes,  Mine,  des  Illes,  and  the  baby,  who  made  him 
self  terribly  well  known  by  occasional  protests  in  the 
tongue  of  babyhood.  As  the  thief  became  accustomed 
to  the  gloom  and  the  company,  his  usual  cheeriness 
returned ;  and  when  they  could  not  open  the  trap  he 
began  to  propose  all  manner  of  schemes.  He  would 
bore  a  hole  and  let  out  the  wine:  and  so  lighten  the 
barrel.  He  would  shoot  a  ball  through  the  trap  and 
the  barrel,  and  thus  let  out  the  weight  of  wine.  The 
duke,  who  never  lost  respect  for  his  own  dignity,  was 
disgusted,  and  would  listen  to  none  of  his  counsels. 

Toward  bedtime  the  baby  began  to  wail  dismally ; 
the  boys  sobbed ;  and  Mme.  des  Illes  cried  out  to  them 
that  they  should  be  ashamed  to  complain,  and  then, 
by  way  of  comment,  herself  burst  into  tears ;  while 
the  duke  stumbled  about,  and  swore  under  his  breath. 
This  was  all  very  astonishing  to  Francois,  who  had 
seen  little  of  any  world  but  his  own,  and  to  whom 
calamity  served  only  as  a  hint  to  consider  some  way 
to  escape  its  effects.  He  remained  silent  for  a  while, 
after  the  duke  had  let  him  plainly  understand  that  he 
was  a  fool  and  had  better  hold  his  tongue.  This 
lasted  for  a  half -hour,  during  which  he  sat  still,  think- 


290  THE  ADVENTURES  OP  FRANgOlS 

ing,  with  full  eyes,  of  his  dead  dog.  By  degrees  the 
children  grew  quiet,  and  the  baby,  having  exhausted 
his  vocabulary  and  himself,  fell  asleep.  Then  the 
duke  said  irritably: 

"  Why  the  deuce  don't  you  do  something,  Master 
Thief  ?  If  you  can  get  into  places  where  you  do  not 
belong,  why  cannot  you  get  out  of  this  abominable 
box?" 

Francois  laughed.  "  Get  out  I  would,  and  gladly ; 
but  how?  We  might  wait,  monsieur,  till  they  drink 
up  the  wine,  or  until  it  dries  up,  or—  But  here  the 
boys  laughed,  and  even  the  duke  forgot  himself,  and 
said  Francois  was  a  merry  fellow.  Indeed,  he  was  of 
use  to  them  all ;  for,  soon  becoming  at  ease,  he  regaled 
the  boys  with  his  adventures ;  but  how  many  he  in 
vented  I  do  not  know.  Some  were  queer,  and  some 
silly ;  but  all  tales  are  good  in  the  dark,  for  then  what 
can  one  do  but  attend  ? 

After  a  while,  all  being  still,  Francois  lighted  his  lan 
tern,  on  which  Duke  Philippe  said :  "  Put  out  that  light ; 
we  have  too  few  candles  as  it  is ;  and  keep  quiet.  You 
are  prowling  about  like  a  cat  on  the  tiles,  and  twice 
you  have  stumbled  over  my  legs." 

"  But  I  have  twice  said  I  was  sorry,"  said  Francois, 
getting  tired  of  this  duke  with  an  uncertain  temper, 
who  repeated :  "  Put  out  that  light,  and  sit  down.a 

Then  madame  spoke :  "  He  may  have  a  reason  to 
want  to  see  and  to  move  about." 

"7T  is  so,"  said  Francois.  "If  I  walk,  my  wits 
walk ;  if  I  sit,  they  go  to  sleep ;  and  as  to  cats, 
madame,  I  am  a  street  cat";  and,  thinking  of  Suz 
anne,  he  laughed. 


THE  ADVENTUEES   OF   FEANQOIS  291 

"Ah,  confound  your  laughing!"  The  duke  felt 
that  to  laugh  at  a  joke  he  did  not  share  was,  to  say 
the  least,  disrespectful.  "  What  is  there  to  laugh  at  ? " 

Francois,  who  had  been  moving  as  he  spoke,  was 
suddenly  elated.  He  said  it  was  Suzanne  he  was 
thinking  of;  and  when  madame  would  know  if  she 
were  his  wife,  the  duke  was  silent  out  of  lack  of  in 
terest  for  low  company,  and  Francois  began  to  tell 
about  the  elders  and  the  Hebrew  maid,  and  of  the 
Amalekites  who  lived  on  the  next  roof.  The  boys 
were  charmed,  and  madame  said,  a  Fie  !  fie !  "  but  it 
served  to  amuse.  An  hour  later  he  began  to  move 
about  restlessly,  and  at  last  cried  out,  from  the  far  end 
of  the  cellar : 

u  This  way,  monsieur ;  what  is  this  ?  A  candle — and 
quick !  "  When  they  all  came  to  see,  he  rolled  aside 
an  empty  cask,  and  showed  a  heavy  planking.  He 
seized  the  decayed  timbers  and  tore  them  away,  so 
that  as  they  fell  a  black  gap  was  to  be  seen.  The 
air  blew  in,  cool  and  damp. 

"  Mon  Dieu!  't  is  the  catacombs.  My  husband's 
grandfather  cut  off  this  end  for  a  wine-cave.  It  is 
strange  I  should  have  quite  forgotten  it." 

"But  what  then?"  said  the  duke.  "It  is  only  a 
grave  you  have  opened.  You  might  as  well  have 
kept  quiet." 

The  thief's  feelings  were  hurt ;  he  began  to  care 
less  and  less  for  this  useless  nobleman. 

Madame  said  thoughtfully :  "  It  may  be  a  way  out. 
If  it  come  to  the  worst,  we  can  but  try  it." 

"  Madame  is  right ;  and  as  to  keeping  quiet,  I  never 
could.  Sleeping  cats  catch  no  rats."  He  believed  in 


292  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS 

his  luck.  "  We  shall  get  out,"  he  said,  with  cool  assur 
ance.  u  I  always  do.  I  have  been  in  many  scrapes. 
I  got  out  of  the  Madelomiettes,  and  I  was  once  near 
to  decorating  a  rope." 

"  A  rope  !  "  exclaimed  madame. 

"  Yes.  Parbleu !  I  wear  my  cravat  loose  ever  since. 
I  like  to  have  full  swing,  but  not  in  that  way."  He 
was  gay  and  talkative.  The  boys  liked  it ;  but  not  so 
the  duke,  who  said  : 

"Well,  what  next?" 

"  We  must  explore.     I  will  enter  and  see  a  little." 

"But."  said  the  woman,  "you  will  get  lost;  and 
then,  what  to  do  ? "  She  had  come  to  trust  the  thief. 
He  saw  this,  and  liked  it.  "If  we  lose  you,  what 
shall  we  do"?— what  shall  we  do?" 

The  thief  turned  to  her  as  he  stood,  lantern  in  hand. 
He  was  grave.  "  Madame,  I  am  a  poor  thief  of  the 
streets ;  I  have  had  to  live  as  I  could ;  and  since  I  was 
a  boy  I  can  count  the  kind  words  ever  said  to  me  by 
man  or  woman.  I  shall  not  forget." 

Madame  was  moved,  and  said  they  were  all  alike 
come  upon  evil  days,  and  that  perhaps  now  he  would 
turn  from  his  wicked  ways. 

Poor  Francois  was  not  quite  clear  as  to  his  ways 
having  been  wicked. 

"Well,  if  you  are  going,"  said  the  duke,  "3^011  had 
better  be  about  it." 

It  was  then  young  Des  Illes  said  he  must  have  a 
string,  like  people  who  went  into  caves,  else  he  might 
never  find  his  way  back.  The  thief  thought  it  a  fine 
idea;  and  here  was  madame's  big  ball  of  knitting- 
wool.  With  no  more  delay,  he  took  it,  and  leaving 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  293 

an  end  in  Des  Illes's  hand,  boldly  walked  away 
into  the  darkness  with  his  lantern,  and  was  soon  lost 
to  view. 

When  he  came  back  to  this  anxious  company,  he 
had  to  report  such  a  tangle  of  passages  as  caused  him 
to  say  that  to  try  to  escape  through  these  must  be  a 
last  resort.  He  thought  they  might  live  on  the  rats 
if  provisions  gave  out,  but  they  must  eat  them  raw. 

"  Helas!  what  a  fate  !  "  said  madame. 

The  little  Duke  Henri  spoke  eagerly,  and  said  the 
Chinese  ate  rats. 

"  But  not  raw,"  cried  the  young  Des  Hies,  which  set 
them  all  to  laughing-. 

Soon  again  they  were  quiet,  because  talk  in  the  dark 
does  not  prosper.  A  little  later  madame  called  softly 
to  the  thief  to  sit  by  her,  and  would  hear  of  his  life. 
Francois  related  his  exploits  with  pride.  She  made  no 
comment,  but  said  at  last :  "  Your  name,  my  friend  ? " 
And  when  he  replied,  "  Francois,"  she  declared  that 
he  was  no  more  to  be  any  one's  thief,  but  always  Fran 
cois  ;  and  this  was  a  hint  to  the  duke,  who  took  it  in 
silence,  and  was  evidently  depressed. 

After  this,  madame  bade  the  boys  say  their  prayers ; 
and  soon  all  were  asleep,  except  Francois,  who  sat 
against  a  cask,  and  saw  Toto's  brown  eyes  in  the 
darkness. 

At  last  the  morrow  came.  The  provisions  were 
shared,  and,  as  usual  with  Francois,  his  spirits  rose 
as  he  filled  his  stomach.  He  held  the  baby,  and  was 
queerly  interested  in  this  mystery  of  unwinking  eyes. 
Might  he  give  it  of  the  bottle  ?  He  satisfied  the  child, 
who  seemed  fearless  of  that  long,  good-humored  face. 


294  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

Might  he  hold  it  longer  ?  It  would  relieve  madame. 
He  sang  low  to  it  a  queer  thief-song,  and  then  another 
none  there  could  understand. 

"  del! "  said  the  duke,  who  had  slept  off  his  splenetic 
mood ;  "  you  have  a  fine  voice." 

"Ah,  would  it  were  a  hymn,"  said  madame,  "or  a 
psalm  of  Clement  Marot !  " 

"  I  know  no  hymns,"  said  Francois,  "  but  only  some 
old  choir  chants." 

Upon  this  he  began  to  sing,  low  and  sweet,  one  of 
the  old  Latin  songs : 

Salve,  mundi  salutare, 
Salve,  salve,  Jesu  care  ! 
Cruel  tuae  me  aptare 
Vellem  vere,  tu  scis  qiiare, 
Da  mihi  tui  capiam. 

The  rich  voice  which  in  his  boyhood  days  had  soared 
like  a  lark  up  among  the  arches  of  Notre  Dame  had 
come  again.  He  heard  himself  with  wonder  and  with 
sad  thoughts  of  the  chances  his  boyish  haste  had  for 
ever  lost  for  him. 

"And  you  a  thief!"  cried  madame.  "Where— 
where  did  you  learn- 
But  at  this  moment  noises  overhead  put  an  end  to 
all  but  listening.  At  last  Francois  said :  "  They 
move  the  casks.  It  were  well  to  take  to  the  caves." 
And  this  was  hastily  agreed  to,  when,  of  a  sudden, 
the  noises  ceased. 

Francois  still  urged  instant  flight ;  but  the  duke 
said,  "No ;  we  must  wait,"  and  gave  no  reasons.  The 
thief  did  not  agree,  but  held  his  tongue,  as  Mine,  des 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  PEANgOIS  295 

Illes  said  nothing,  and  since,  after  all,  this  was  a 
duke. 

An  hour  later  he  started  up.  "By  Heaven,  they 
are  at  the  trap  !  " 

The  duke  was  no  coward.  He  ran  up  the  steps, 
pistol  in  hand,  and  gave  his  second  weapon  to  Fran- 
c.ois,  who  stood  below.  The  trap  was  cast  wide  open, 
and  a  big  municipal  was  seen  stooping  over  the  open 
space  ;  for  beyond  him  the  cellar  was  well  lighted  up. 
The  duke  fired  without  an  instant's  indecision. 

"  By  St.  Denis !  't  is  a  man,  this  duke,"  cried  Fran- 
C,ois,  as  the  officer  pitched  head  down  into  the  cave. 
The  thief  set  a  foot  on  him  as  he  lay,  and  reached  up 
the  second  pistol  to  the  duke,  while  young  Des  Illes, 
too  curious  for  fear,  crawled  up  the  broad  stone  stairs 
to  see.  The  thief  heard  a  second  shot,  and  followed 
the  lad.  There  were  several  candles  set  on  casks,  and 
through  the  smoke  he  saw  a  municipal  in  a  heap  at 
the  far  end  of  the  upper  cellar.  He  was  groaning 
piteously. 

"  Load  again,  monsieur,"  cried  Francois.  "  Quick ! 
there  may  be  more."  He  himself  went  past  the  duke, 
and  young  Des  Illes  after  him.  He  turned  the  officer 
over. 

"  He  is  not  dead,"  he  said.     "  Best  to  finish  him." 

But  here  was  madame  at  his  side,  saying:  "No, 
110 !  No  more— I  will  not  have  it.  Man  Dieu!  it  is 
bad  enough.  I  will  have  no  murder." 

"  Then  let  us  go  back ;  he  is  as  good  as  dead." 

"  Mon  Dieu!  Mon  Dieu! "  cried  the  woman  ;  and  so 
in  haste  the  upper  trap  was  closed,  and  all  went  again 
down  to  the  cave. 


296       THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANQOIS 

The  officer  below  was  dead,  with  a  ball  through  his 
head.  Mother  and  children  huddled  away  in  the  far 
corner,  scared.  The  duke  said: 

"  What  now  must  we  do ! " 

"  We  must  go,  and  at  oiice,"  said  Francois.  "  They 
will  soon  come  back,  and  then — 

"Yes,  yes,"  cried  madame;  "you  are  right.  You 
were  right ;  we  should  have  gone  before,  and  saved 
all  this  bloodshed." 

The  duke  made  no  comment,  except  to  mutter,  "  I 
suppose  so  " ;  and  at  once  began  to  assist  Francois's 
preparations  for  flight. 

And  now  the  thief's  readiness  and  efficiency  were 
shown.  He  arranged  every  one's  loads,  filled  baskets, 
laughed  over  a  shoulder  at  the  boys  as  he  strapped 
blankets  011  the  duke,  and  at  last  loaded  himself  with 
all  that  was  left.  They  took  the  arms  of  the  dead 
man,  and  soon  trooped  out  into  the  darkness.  The 
duke,  who  at  once  went  on  ahead,  carried  a  lantern. 

At  the  first  turn,  Francois  called  out  to  wait,  and 
ran  back.  The  duke  swore.  He  was  now  eager  to 
go  on,  and  declared  that  the  thief  would  deliver  them 
up,  and  save  his  own  head.  But  madame  was  of 
other  mind,  and  so  they  stood  expectant.  At  last 
came  Francois,  laughing. 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  this  comes  of  honest  company.  I 
forgot  the  bag  of  gold.  And  these— these  are  price 
less.  I  have  the  fellow's  clothes.  When  a  man  does 
not  resist,  the  temptation  is  great ;  neither  did  he 
assist." 

"Stop  that  talk,  and  come  on.  Are  we  going  to 
set  up  a  shop  for  old  clothes  ? " 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANgOIS  297 

Francois  fell  behind.  "The  duke  would  make  a 
poor  thief,"  he  said  to  the  boys.  Young  Henri  de  St. 
Maur  said :  "  You  are  insolent.  My  father  a  thief !  " 

"  Tiens!  There  are  times  when  to  steal  is  virtue. 
Allans  done! "  and  he  strode  on,  laughing,  and  telling 
the  boys  stories. 

There  were  many  little  incidents  that  day,  but  the 
worst  was  at  evening,  when  they  found  a  great  cave, 
lofty  and  wide,  where  had  been  cast,  long  before,  the 
bones  out  of  the  overfilled  cemeteries.  Here  it  was 
that  skulls  fell  from  the  great  heap,  and  rolled  away 
on  every  side  into  the  darkness,  while  the  rats  ran 
out  in  armies.  •  The  thief  was  of  all  the  most  alarmed, 
and  stood  still,  saying  paternosters  and  aves  by  the 
dozen.  After  this  they  went  on  aimlessly,  now  and 
then  hearing  overhead  the  roar  and  rumble  of  wagons. 
Their  nights  proved  to  be  full  of  sore  trials.  The  rats 
assembled,  and  grew  bolder.  One  bit  the  baby,  who 
cried  until  the  thief  lighted  a  candle  and  watched 
while  the  rest  slept,  or  tried  to  do  so. 

The  dismalness  of  these  underground  labyrinths 
was  such  as  no  man  could  imagine.  One  day  they 
walked  a  half-mile  through  a  wet  cave-passage  so 
narrow  that  two  persons  could  not  move  abreast.  It 
ended  in  a  blank  wall,  and  they  were  forced  to  go 
back,  over  shoe-top  in  water.  Or,  again,  they  went 
up  rude  stairs,  stumbling,  but  hopeful,  only  to  descend 
once  more  into  the  depths  of  the  earth.  Now  and 
then  a  putrid  rain  fell  on  them,  and  at  every  turn  the 
rats  fled  by  them,  now  one  and  now  a  scurry  of 
countless  troops.  Twice  a  mass  of  rock  fell  in  some 
distant  passage,  and  strange  echoes  reverberated  in 


298      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

cavern  spaces,  so  that  the  boys  cried  out  in  terror,  and 
even  Francois  shivered  at  the  thought  of  how  they 
might  be  buried  alive  by  one  of  these  downfalls.  Each 
sad  day  of  weariness  had  its  incident  of  terror  or  dis 
appointment ;  and  still,  with  lessening  hope,  they 
trailed  on  after  the  dim  light  which  the  duke  carried 
as  he  led  them — none  knew  whither.  Each  morning 
they  rose  cold,  wet,  and  unrefreshed,  ate  of  their 
lessening  food,  and  after  some  little  talk  as  to  how 
this  day  they  should  keep  turning  to  left  or  to  right, 
set  out  anew,  the  duke  still  in  advance,  with  an  ever- 
changing  mind  as  to  where  they  were  or  what  they 
should  do.  As  day  followed  day,  their  halts  became 
more  frequent.  They  lingered  where  the  dripping 
rain  from  the  sewage  of  the  great  city  overhead  was 
least;  or  at  times  paused  suddenly  to  listen  to  mys 
terious  sounds,  or  to  let  the  rats  go  by  them,  splashing 
in  the  noisome  puddles  underfoot.  The  night  was  as 
the  day,  the  day  as  the  night.  They  had  no  way  to 
tell  the  one  from  the  other,  except  by  the  duke's 
watch. 

So  confusing  was  this  monotonous  tramp  under 
ground,  the  days  so  much  alike,  that  at  last  these  sad 
people  became  bewildered  as  to  how  long  they  had 
wandered.  Their  food  was  becoming  less  and  less, 
and  on  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day  the  duke  and 
Francois  knew  that  very  soon  their  stock  of  candles 
would  be  exhausted.  These  had,  in  fact,  been  of  small 
use,  except  to  keep  the  scared  children  more  cheerful 
when  night  came  on  and  the  rats  grew  bold. 

This  evening  of  the  fifth  day,  and  earlier  than  usual, 
Mme.  des  Illes  declared  of  a  sudden  that  she  could 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS  299 

go  no  farther,  and  must  rest  for  tlie  night.  The  duke 
had  a  new  plan,  and  urged  her  to  go  on.  She  cried 
over  the  baby  011  her  lap,  and  made  no  answer.  They 
sat  down  to  pass  another  night  of  discomfort.  After  a 
little  talk  with  the  boys,  Francois  drew  apart  from  the 
rest,  and  began  to  think  over  the  wanderings  of  the 
day.  Their  situation  this  evening  was  somewhat  better 
than  it  had  usually  been,  for  they  sat  in  a  dry  end  of 
one  of  the  many  excavations,  and  did  not  feel  the 
cold,  moist  winds  wrhich  howled  along  these  stony 
caves,  carrying  a  changeful  variety  of  umvholesome 
stenches.  A  silent  hour  went  by  in  utter  darkness. 
At  times  Francois  rose  to  drive  away  adventurous 
rats.  At  last  he  lighted  a  candle,  and  set  it  at  the 
open  end  of  the  cul-de-sac.  When  he  saw  that  the 
rats  would  not  pass  the  lantern,  he  whispered  to 
madame  of  this,  and  that  he  meant  to  explore  a  little, 
and  bade  her  have  no  fear.  The  duke  had  thus  far 
had  his  own  way,  and  it  had  not  been  to  Francois's 
taste.  He  took  a  second  lantern,  and  moved  off  around 
a  corner,  resolute  to  find  a  means  of  escape.  The  duke 
ordered  him  to  return  and  to  put  out  the  candle. 
Francois  made  no  reply.  He  counted  the  turns  as  he 
went  on,  and  listened  for  the  noise  of  vehicles  above 
him. 

"  A  pretty  duke,  that !  "  he  said.  "  I  should  have 
made  as  good  a  one.  I  like  better  that  devil  of  a  mar 
quis;  but  diantre!  neither  is  much  afraid — nor  I,  for 
that  matter." 

Sometimes  he  turned  back,  at  others  went  on  boldly, 
noting  whence  blew  any  current  of  warmer  air.  At 
last  he  came  upon  an  enormous  excavation.  In  the 


300      THE  ADVENTUKES  OF  FRANQOIS 

middle  was  a  mass  of  partly  tumbled  stone,  laid  in 
courses.  This  broken  heap  was  large,  and  irregularly 
conical.  He  moved  around  it  in  wonder,  having  seen 
nothing  like  it  in  his  explorations.  He  turned  the 
yellow  and  feeble  lantern-light  upon  the  heap,  and  at 
first  concluded  that  the  old  makers  of  these  quarries 
had  here  built  for  themselves  a  house,  which  had  fallen 
to  ruin. 

But  where  was  he,  and  what  part  of  Paris  was  over 
his  head  ?  He  remembered  at  last  to  have  heard  that 
these  catacombs  were  once  used  as  receptacles  for  the 
dead,  in  order  to  relieve  the  overpeopled  graveyards. 
Had  he  been  less  alarmed,  he  might  have  guessed 
where  he  was  when  they  came  upon  the  bones ;  for 
that  must  have  been  near  to  the  cemetery  of  the 
Church  of  the  Innocents.  But  while  the  duke  had 
led,  Francois  had  taken  less  than  his  usual  active 
notice,  and  had  been  content  to  follow.  Here,  now, 
was  a  new  landmark.  This  before  him  could  be  no 
dwelling  of  quarriers,  but  must  be  a  house  fallen  into 
the  great  cave.  He  had  heard  of  such  happenings. 
To  be  certain  where  and  on  what  street  so  strange  a 
thing  had  occurred  would  afford  knowledge  as  to  the 
part  of  Paris  under  which  he  stood.  He  would  ask 
the  duke  ;  he  might  know.  Thus  reflecting,  he  began 
to  walk  around  the  tumbled  mass.  A  vast  amount  of 
earth  must  have  come  down  with  it.  He  pried  here 
and  there,  and  at  last  found  a  gap  in  the  ruin,  and 
crawled  in  between  fallen  timbers  until  he  could  stand 
up.  On  one  side  was  a  wall  and  a  wide  chimney-place, 
and  on  the  top  of  this  wall  the  great  beams  of  the 
ceiling  still  rested.  Their  farther  ends  lay  on  what 


THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS  301 

seemed  the  wreck  of  the  opposite  wall,  thus  leaving  a 
triangular  space  filled  in  at  each  side  by  broken  stone. 
Amid  this  were  the  crushed  steps  of  a  staircase,  quite 
blocked  up.  The  lantern  gave  little  light.  Only  close 
to  the  fireplace  could  the  tall  thief  stand  erect.  He 
turned  his  lantern,  and  cried  out : 

"  Ye  saints  !  "  Close  beside  him  were  the  remains 
of  a  high-backed  chair,  and  on  these,  and  beside  them, 
portions  of  the  bones  of  a  man.  Two  great  jack-boots 
lay  beside  him,  gnawed  by  rats.  His  skull  was  broken, 
and  lay  where  the  eager  animals  had  dragged  it. 

Few  could  have  stood  here  alone,  and  not  felt  its 
terror  and  its  mystery.  Francois  stood  a  moment, 
appalled,  and  unable  to  think  or  to  observe.  At  last 
he  began  to  study  the  place  with  care  and  increasing 
interest.  A  rusty  sword,  sheathed,  was  caught  in  the 
arm  of  the  ruined  chair.  Here  and  there  lay  bits  of 
gold  lace.  He  picked  up  the  rusted  clasp  of  a  purse, 
gnawed  by  the  rats.  Near  it  lay  scattered  a  number 
of  gold  and  silver  coins,  a  rosary,  and  a  small  ring  set 
with  red  stones.  He  put  them  all  in  his  pocket.  There 
was  scarce  a  remnant  of  the  man's  dress. 

Francois  looked  at  the  tumbled  bones.  "  Mon 
Dieu! "  said  he ;  "  am  I  like  that  f "  and  turned  to  see 
what  else  was  here.  On  the  lowest  stair  was  a  glint 
of  yellow— a  cross  of  gold.  "  Good  luck  !  "  he  cried. 
On  the  hearth  was  a  copper  kettle,  green  with  rust. 
Soon  he  began  to  see  better,  and  at  last  found  a  frag 
ment  of  wood  less  damp  than  the  rest  of  the  floor  and 
what  lay  upon  it ;  for  a  steady,  slow,  irregular  rain 
fell  in  drops,  with  dull  patter  here  and  there.  He 
shaved  off  some  slivers  of  the  wood,  and,  getting  at 

18 


302  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANQOIS 

the  drier  inside,  soon,  with  paper  from  his  pouch,  made 
a  fire  on  the  stone  pavement.  Presently  he  had  a 
bright  little  blaze,  and  in  the  brilliant  glow  began  to 
shed  his  terror.  He  found  other  wood,  and  nourished 
the  flame.  But  when  he  saw  that  the  fragments  were 
from  the  end  of  a  crushed  cradle,  he  ceased  to  use 
them ;  because  here  were  little  bones  lying  scattered, 
and  the  man  guessed  at  the  extent  of  the  tragedy,  and 
was  strangely  stirred.  He  moved  to  and  fro  in  the 
tent-like  space  in  awe  and  wonder,  in  thought  recon 
structing  the  house,  and  seeming  to  share  in  the 
horror  of  its  story. 

Before  leaving,  he  looked  again  at  the  overturned 
chair,  the  stones  lying  about  it,  and  the  moldering 
remains  of  the  man.  He  must  have  been  asleep,  and 
died  instantly  when  the  house  fell  into  the  great  cave. 
There  was  no  more  to  be  seen.  u  God  rest  his  soul !  " 
said  the  thief,  and  crawled  backward  out  of  the  tangle 
of  broken  beams  and  stones. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  again  with  those  he  had 
left,  and,  saying  only,  "  'T  is  well,  madame ;  we  shall 
get  out,"  fell  into  a  peaceful  sleep. 

The  next  day  every  one  dragged  on  wearily,  the  duke 
still  leading,  and  Francois  hoping  that  he  would  be 
asked  advice.  The  water  rained  on  them  a  noisome 
downfall,  the  rats  came  out  in  hordes ;  and  still  Fran- 
c.ois  cheered  his  companions,  now  carrying  the  baby, 
and  now  encouraging  the  tired  boys. 

I  have  not  given  in  full  detail  all  the  miseries  of 
these  weary  days  and  sorrowful  nights.  They  have 
been  more  fully  told  elsewhere  by  one  who  felt  them 
as  more  serious  than  did  Francois,  whose  narrative  I 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  303 

now  am  following.  These  unhappy  victims  of  the 
Terror  had  been  altogether  six  days  in  the  cave,  but 
Francois  not  so  long.  By  this  time  their  spirit  was 
quite  broken.  The  thief  alone  remained  gay,  hopeful, 
and  even  confident,  but  saw  clearly  enough  that  these 
people,  used  to  easy  lives,  could  not  endure  much 
longer  the  strain  of  this  unguided  wandering  in  the 
dark  and  somber  alleys  of  this  horrible  labyrinth  of 
darkness  and  foul  odors.  The  duke  seemed  also  to 
be  of  a  like  mind,  for  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh 
day  he  awakened  Francois  at  six,  and,  of  a  sudden 
grown  sadly  familiar,  whispered  low  to  him  : 

"Is  there  any  hope?  Madame  and  the  boys  are 
failing.  Soon  we  shall  have  to  carry  them." 

"  We  shall  get  out,"  said  Francois. 

"But  how?  how?  Why  to-day  any  more  than 
yesterday  ?  Do  you  think  of  any  way  to  help  us  ? " 

"  If  monsieur  will  permit  me  to  lead— 

"  Good  !     Why  did  you  not  say  so  before  ? " 

Francois  made  no  direct  reply,  but  asked :  "  Did 
ever  a  house  fall  into  these  quarry-caves  ? " 

"  A  house  ?  Why  do  you  ask  ?  Yes ;  it  was  long 
ago.  The  house  of  the  lieutenant  of  the  guard  it  was. 
I  do  not  recall  the  date.  A  house  in  the  Rue  des 
Peches." 

"Will  this  help  to  know  when  it  was?"  and  Fran- 
c.ois  showed  his  coins  and  told  his  story. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  see.  How  wonderful !  These  are  of 
the  time  of  Francis  I." 

"  Rue  des  Peches  ?" 

"  Yes ;  it  is  now  the  Rue  des  Bon  Secours.  It  is 
close  to  the  Asile  des  Innocents." 


304      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FKANgOIS 

"Dien!  monsieur,  then  I  know.  I  think  we  may 
get  out  to-day;  but  it  may  be  well  not  yet  to  tell 
madame.  I  think  we  are  still  near  to  the  fallen 
house." 

"  Then  you  shall  lead,"  said  the  duke.  "  Tiens!  a 
queer  fellow,  this  thief,"  he  muttered,  and  went  to 
waken  the  sleeping  children.  No  word  was  said  as 
to  the  house  of  the  lieutenant  of  the  guard,  but  Fran- 
c.ois  refreshed  the  tired  party  by  promising  a  speedy 
glimpse  of  day.  For,  now  that  the  candles  were  few, 
they  thought  more  of  this  than  of  the  perils  which 
the  daylight  might  bring. 

The  thief  led,  and  all  day  long  they  went  on  and 
on.  Once  he  was  quite  dismayed  to  find  that  he  had 
lost  his  way,  and  once  came  to  the  very  entrance  of 
the  cave  he  had  left  the  night  before.  The  duke  again 
became  querulous  and  dissatisfied ;  but  Francois  only 
laughed,  and,  resolutely  concealing  his  mistake,  re 
traced  his  steps.  It  was  near  to  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening  of  July  28  when  the  thief  bade  them  rest, 
and  he  would  be  back  soon.  The  duke  said  some 
thing  cross ;  but  Francois  made  no  reply,  and,  turning 
a  corner,  lost  sight  of  his  party.  He  took  careful 
note  of  the  turns  and  windings  of  this  maze,  and  now 
and  then  found  himself  in  a  blind  alley,  and  must  of 
need  turn  back.  At  the  far  end  of  one  of  these  recesses 
he  saw  in  the  gloom  two  great,  green,  phosphorescent 
eyes.  Like  mighty  jewels  they  were,  set  in  the  dark 
ness.  They  were  soon  lost  to  view,  and  came  and 
went.  "  They  are  cats,"  he  murmured ;  "  and  what  a 
hunting  estate  they  have  !  Ye  saints  !  if  I  had  here 
my  poor  Toto  !  "  He  began  to  move  toward  these  eyes, 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANCOIS      305 

which  shot  back  the  light  his  lantern  gave.  There  were 
three  sets  of  the  pale-green  jewels,  and  now  their 
owners  were  manceuvering  to  escape.  He  began  to 
use  caressing  cat-talk,  such  as  had  won  the  heart  of 
Suzanne,  and,  falling  on  his  knees,  crept  closer.  Then 
there  was  a  quick  rush  past  him  of  his  feline  game ; 
but  one  cat  was  indecisive,  and  he  had  her  by  the  leg. 
He  paid  well  for  his  audacity,  but  held  on,  and  pretty 
soon  began  to  exercise  the  curious  control  he  had  over 
all  animals.  At  last  pussy  lay  still  and  panting. 
When  the  scared  animal  grew  quiet,  he  set  her  down. 
For  a  moment  she  hesitated,  and  then  began  to  move 
away.  As  he  followed  she  ran.  He  cast  the  lantern- 
light  before  her,  and  pursued  her  with  all  speed. 
Once  or  twice  she  was  nearly  lost  to  view.  Then  she 
turned  a  corner,  and  another,  and  of  a  sudden  fled 
toward  a  distant  archway,  through  which  he  saw  the 
light  of  day.  A  great  rush  of  warm  air  went  by  him. 
He  stood  still,  murmuring  aves.  To  his  surprise,  he 
was  near  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  his  com 
panions.  He  stood  a  moment  in  deep  thought.  "  We 
are  out  at  last,"  he  murmured.  "  But  del!  there  is 
much  to  think  about.  We  may  have  too  much  light." 

He  went  back  and  told  of  the  discovery,  but  of  the 
cat  not  a  word.  The  duke  said :  "  I  thought  we  should 
soon  get  out ;  come,  let  us  be  off." 

Madame  said  gently :  "  Let  us  kneel  before  we  go, 
and  thank  the  good  God  for  this  friend  he  sent  us  in 
our  trouble."  Then  they  all  knelt,  and  she  prayed, 
speaking  her  thankfulness  to  Heaven,  with  at  the  end 
a  word  as  to  her  husband,  and  also  asking  God's  mercy 
for  him  who  had  led  them  forth  out  of  darkness  into 


306      THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FEANgOIS 

light.  When  Francois  heard  her,  he  was  disturbed  as 
he  had  never  been  in  all  his  days.  When  a  man  like 
Francois  sheds  tears,  it  is  a  great  event  in  his  life. 
He  rose  from  his  knees,  and  asked  the  duke  and  the 
rest  to  go  with  him ;  and  thus  it  was  that  in  a  few 
minutes  they  stood  fifty  feet  from  an  open  archway, 
through  which  came  the  level  light  from  the  western 
sky. 

The  duke  was  moved  at  last  to  say  how  clever 
Francois  had  been ;  and  how  had  he  managed  it  ? 
The  thief  declared  it  had  been  easy ;  but  the  cat  got 
no  credit,  and  never  was  praised,  then  or  ever,  for  her 
share  of  their  escape.  Set  in  this  rocky  frame  before 
them  was  a  picture  as  it  were  of  a  disused  quarry, 
and  beyond  it  vineyards,  with  yet  farther  a  red-tiled 
housetop.  Here  it  was,  as  they  paused,  that  madame 
said  solemnly,  with  tears  in  her  eyes : 

"  '  God  said,  Let  there  be  light :  and  there  was  light. 
And  God  saw  the  light,  that  it  was  good.' " 

After  the  duke  and  Francois  had  peeped  out,  and 
seen  no  one,  the  duke  began  to  set  forth  a  variety  of 
schemes  as  to  what  they  should  do.  None  of  these 
was  very  wise,  and  at  last  madame  turned  to  Francois. 
He  had  disappeared,  but  presently  came  again,  dressed 
in  the  clothes  of  the  dead  officer.  He  wore  his  sword 
and  pistols,  and  now,  as  seen  clearly  in  the  light  of 
day,  was  certainly  a  queer  enough  figure.  The  gar 
ments  were  too  short  below  and  too  wide  above,  and 
over  them  rose  the  long  face,  the  broad  mouth,  and 
the  huge  ears.  The  boys,  who  looked  on  their  troubles 
as  at  an  end,  set  up  a  shout  of  laughter. 

"  The  deuce !     I  shall  arrest  you,  citizens,"  cried 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   FRANCOIS  307 

Francois.  "  And  first,  monsieur."  He  explained  that 
he  proposed  to  tie  the  duke's  hands  behind  his  back, 
and  with,  as  was  usual,  one  end  of  the  rope  in  his 
hand,  would  conduct  the  ci-devant  into  Paris  by  the 
Barriere  d'Enfer.  The  weeping  widow  would  follow, 
with  the  two  children,  to  see  the  last  of  their  poor 
papa. 

The  duke  was  disgusted,  but  pretended  to  be  much 
amused.  "Well,  it  is  a  pretty  comedy,"  he  said,  as 
Mine,  des  Illes  insisted. 

"  Dame! "  said  the  thief,  "  but  the  tragedy  is  not  far 
away." 

"  And  what  is  to  come  after  ? "  said  she.  "  Had  we 
not  better  wait  till  night  ? " 

"No.  The  guards  are  doubled  at  night.  It  is  bold 
ness  which  will  win." 

"  And  what  then,  Francois  ? " 

"  I  must  find  for  you  a  refuge  while  I  go  to  see  if 
M.  des  Illes  may  not  have  returned ;  for,  madame,  you 
have  assured  me  that  he  would  be  released.  Pray 
God  it  is  so.  And  what  better  is  there  ? "  The  duke 
was  forced  to  consent. 

A  rope  found  in  the  officer's  pocket  made  part  of 
Francois's  spoil.  He  tied  the  duke's  hands,  and 
showed  him  how,  at  need,  a  pull  would  release  them. 
The  gold  was  divided.  All  else  they  left.  Francois 
reported  the  way  clear,  and  they  set  out.  But  the 
boys  giggled  so  much  at  the  duke  and  his  indignant 
face  that  Francois  paused. 

"  Dame! "  he  cried,  "  madame  must  weep."  She  was 
already  doing  that,  her  mind  on  the  fate  of  M.  des 
Illes.  "  If  you  boys  are  fools,  and  laugh,  we  are  lost. 


308      THE  ADVENTUEES  OF  FRANgOIS 

Cry,  if  you  can ;  but,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  do  not 
look  about  you,  or  smile.  Take  a  hand  of  madame— 
so.  Cry,  if  ever  you  mean  to  get  away  safe." 

The  road  beyond  the  quarry  was  little  used,  and 
they  went  on,  the  duke  furious.  When  they  met  any 
one,  Francois  cried :  "  Get  on,  aristocrat !  Pig  of  a 
ci-devant,  march ! " 

Duke  Philippe  muttered  :  "  Sacre,  thief !  "  and  got 
a  smart  jerk  of  the  rope,  and  more  abuse,  until  the 
fun  of  it  nearly  upset  the  thief,  who  could  scarce 
contain  himself.  At  the  Barriere  d'Enfer  were  but 
two  guards;  nor  were  there  as  many  people  in  the 
streets  as  usual. 

Suddenly  Francois  halted  at  the  summons  to  leave 
his  prisoner  with  one  of  the  two  men,  and  to  enter  the 
little  office  and  exhibit  his  papers,  as  was  needful. 

" Dame! "  muttered  the  thief,  "  one  cannot  know  all 
things.  I  forgot  about  the  papers."  He  showed, 
however,  no  indecision.  "  Guard  this  wretch,  citizen," 
he  said.  "  Here,  take  the  rope.  He  is  a  returned 
emigre."  The  man  took  the  rope.  "I  shall  not  be 
long."  So  saying,  he  went  in  after  the  second  guard, 
closing  the  door  behind  them.  The  man  sat  down 
at  a  desk,  and  opened  a  blank-book,  saying :  "  The 
order,  citizen." 

"I  am  afraid  it  is  lost,"  said  Francois,  eagerly 
searching  his  acquired  pockets.  "  The  mischief ! 
What  to  do?" 

"  To  do  ?  Thou  must  wait  till  the  lieutenant  comes 
back.  He  has  gone  to  see  the  fun." 

"  Fun  !     What  fun  ? " 

At  this  moment  the  man  rose  hastily.     "  Diable ! 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS  309 

them  art  Francois !  I  thought  I  knew  thy  voice. 
There  are  orders  to  arrest  thee.  Citizen  Amar  de 
sires  thy  society.  Best  make  uo  fuss.  I  arrest  thee. 
I  am  in  luck.  It  is  sure  promotion.  What  trick  art 
thou  up  to  f  And  those  folks  outside,  who  are  they  ? " 

u  But  thou,  an  old  thief,  to  arrest  a  comrade  !  Surely 
thou  wilt  not." 

"  No  use.     Come  !  no  nonsense." 

Francois  put  out  a  pleading  hand.  "  But  they  will 
kill  me,  comrade."  He  looked  all  the  alarm  needed. 

"  Bah ! " 

In  an  instant  the  strongest  grip  of  the  Cite  was  on 
the  man's  throat,  and  closed  as  a  vise  closes.  A  faint 
cry  escaped  as  the  man  struggled.  Francois  threw  a 
leg  back  of  the  fellow,  and  as  he  fell  dropped  on  his 
chest.  It  was  brief.  The  man's  heels  clattered  on  the 
floor ;  he  was  still.  The  thief  rose.  The  man  was  to 
appearance  dead.  He  would  revive,  perhaps.  "  Peste! " 
cried  Francois,  "  it  is  hard  to  keep  one's  head." 

Seizing  a  paper  from  the  table,  Francois  went  out  of 
the  door,  closing  it  after  him,  and  coolly  caressing  a 
cat  on  the  step.  He  said  to  the  guard  that  his  com 
rade  would  be  out  by  and  by,  and  that  it  was  all 
right.  As  he  spoke  he  waved  the  paper,  and,  taking 
the  rope,  went  on,  crying :  "  Get  up,  ci-devant! "  As 
they  got  farther  away  he  hurried  the  duke.  "  Death 
is  behind  us.  Get  on.  Faster—  faster !  "  He  twisted 
and  turned,  and  was  not  at  ease  until  they  were  deep 
in  the  sinuous,  box-hidden  paths  of  the  Luxembourg. 

Very  few  people  were  to  be  seen,  and  these  looked 
at  or  after  them  with  curiosity. 

"  We  must  be  a  queer  party.     Get  on,  citizen.     Thou 


310     THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANgOIS 

art  lazy.  Thou  wilt  soon  have  a  fine  carriage."  He 
was  terribly  anxious.  "  Sacre,  monsieur!  For  the 
love  of  the  saints,  go  on,  and  quicker !  " 

"What  the  deuce  is  it?"  said  the  duke. 

11  That  beast  at  the  barrier  knew  me.  He  was  an 
old  thief." 

"  And  what  then  ?  Why  were  we  not  stopped  if  he 
knew  you  ? " 

"  He  does  not  know  me  nor  anybody  now." 

"  Foi  (Vhonne-ur,  but  you  are  a  brave  fellow ! " 

"  Thanks ;  but  make  haste." 

At  last  they  were  in  the  long  Rue  de  Varennes, 
where  they  saw  a  great  crowd  filling  the  street,  and 
were  soon  in  the  midst  of  a  mass  of  excited  people. 

Franc,  ois  cried  out :   "  Room,  citizens,  room  !  " 

An  old  woman  shook  her  fist  at  him,  yelling  furi 
ously  :  "  Cursed  Jacobin  !  " 

The  people  were  wild ;  and  presently  a  man  hustled 
the  supposed  officer.  Others  cried  fiercely :  "  Hang 
him  !  "  Another  screamed  out :  "  Robespierre  is 
dead ! "  and  the  crowd  took  up  the  cry.  A  dozen 
hands  seized  on  Francois. 

"  What  the  deuce  is  all  this  ? "  he  shouted.  "  Take 
care,  or  the  law  will  have  you." 

"  Robespierre  is  dead  !     A  la  lanternc! " 

Upon  this,  the  duke  exclaimed :  "  Let  him  go ;  it 
is  a  good  fellow,  and  not  an  officer";  and  then,  amid 
a  maddening  tumult,  succeeded  in  hastily  explaining 
enough  to  secure  the  release  of  the  officer. 

"  A  Ms  la  guillotine! "  cried  Francois.  "  Down  with 
the  Terror !  " 

The  crowd  thickened,  and  went  its  way  with  wild 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  FRANQOIS  311 

cries.  Meanwhile  the  boy  Des  Illes  was  lost,  and 
madame  in  tears.  They  went  on,  asking  questions, 
and  hearing  of  the  execution  of  Robespierre,  Couthou, 
Saint- Just,  and  the  rest.  The  thief  said :  "  Let  us  go 
straight  to  M.  des  Illes's  house." 

At  the  door  madam e  fell  into  her  husband's  arms ; 
and  soon  after  dusk  the  boy  came  running  back  with 
his  father,  who  had  gone  out  to  search  for  him. 

Then  all  was  hastily  made  clear,  and  the  long  story 
told  of  Des  Illes's  release,  and  how  he  had  found  the 
dog,  and  in  the  cave  the  Jacobins  both  dead,  and  of 
his  vain  efforts  to  discover  his  own  people.  They 
were  fed  and  reclothed ;  and  now,  it  being  ten  at  night 
of  this  10th  Thermidor,  Francois  rose.  "  I  must  go," 
he  said. 

"  You  ?  Never !  "  said  madame.  "  Our  house  is 
your  home  for  life.  You  will  wander  and  sin  no 
more." 

On  this,  Francois  looked  about  him,  from  one  kind 
face  to  another,  and  sat  down,  and  broke  into  tears. 

"  It  shall  be  as  madame  desires.     I  am  her  servant." 

And  this  is  the  end  of  the  adventures  of  Francois, 
the  thief.  Let  who  will  judge  him. 


EPILOGUE 

WJierein  is  some  further  account  of  Francois  and  of 
those  who  helped  him. 

a  little  book  which  has  found  many  friend 
ly  readers  I  related  a  strange  story  of  the 
French  Revolution.1  In  it  was  promised 
some  further  account  of  the  most  remark 
able  of  the  personages  concerned.  I 
have  now  fulfilled  my  desire  to  relate  the  adventures 
of  Francois.  The  singular  incidents  I  record  are  not 
without  foundation. 

In  the  story  above  mentioned  I  have  told  how  I 
chanced  to  meet  Fra^ois  and  those  with  whom  he 
spent  his  days  after  the  stormy  period  during  which 
they  first  came  together.  My  acquaintance  with  M. 
des  Illes  and  the  old  Due  de  St.  Maur  slowly  rip 
ened  into  friendship.  I  was  a  lonely  student  in  the 
Latin  Quarter,  and  felt  deeply  the  kindness  which 
never  ceased  insisting  that  their  house  should  be  to 
me  a  home.  In  the  summer,  and  often  after  that,  I 
was  a  guest  at  Des  Illes's  chateau  in  Touraine.  There 
I  came  to  know  Francois,  as  one  may  know  a  French 
or  an  Italian  servant.  During  these  visits  he  acted 

1  "A  Madeira  Party,"  The  Century  Co.,  which  contains  a  tale 
called  "A  Little  More  Bui-gundy,"  to  which  the  reader  is  referred. 

312 


EPILOGUE  313 

as  my  valet,  serving  me  with  admirable  care,  and 
never  better  pleased  than  when  I  invited  him  to  talk 
about  himself.  He  had  long  since  shed  his  thief-skin, 
but  I  fear  that  it  was  only  the  influence  of  fortunate 
circumstances  which  left  him  without  excuse  to  be  or 
to  seem  other  than  as  honest  as  the  rest  of  the  world 
about  him.  ^ 

I  have  known  a  great  variety  of  disreputable  folk 
in  my  lifetime,  but  never  one  who  had  so  many  win 
ning  qualities,  or  who  was  so  entirely  at  his  ease.  A 
scamp  in  the  company  of  men  of  better  morals  usu 
ally  becomes  hypocritical  or  appears  awkwardly 
aware  of  breathing  an  atmosphere  to  which  he  is 
unused.  Francois  had  no  such  difficulties.  For  half 
a  century  he  had  been  for  Des  Illes  something  be 
tween  friend  and  servant.  His  former  life  and  habits 
were  well  known  to  the  few  Avho  came  to  his  master's 
house.  He  was  comfortable,  with  some  forty  thou 
sand  francs  in  the  rentes,  for  his  old  acquaintance,  the 
marquis,  had  not  forgotten  his  services.  He  had  no 
necessity  to  exercise  what  he  still  tranquilly  called  his 
profession.  Like  a  clever  street-dog  adopted  by  a  re 
spectable  family,  though  for  a  time  uneasy,  he  ceased 
by  degrees  to  wander  for  the  joy  of  stealing  a  bone, 
and  became  contented  with  the  better  and  less  peril 
ous  chances  of  a  dinner  at  home. 

I  learned  from  M.  de  St.  Maur,  the  duke's  son,  that 
while  Mme.  des  Illes  lived  Fraugois  remained  the  most 
domestic  of  animals.  Her  death  caused  him  a  grief 
so  profound  that  for  a  time  his  master  was  troubled 
lest  his  reason  might  suffer.  She  herself  would  never 
hear  a  word  against  him.  Unlike  her  husband,  she 


314  EPILOGUE 

was  a  fervent  Protestant,  and  had  now  and  then 
some  vain  hope  of  converting  Francois.  While  she 
lived  he  considered  himself  her  special  servant,  but 
after  her  death  transferred  his  regard  to  young 
Des  Illes,  the  son.  For  many  months  Franqois 
pined,  as  I  have  said.  He  then  became  restless, 
disappeared  for  a  week  at  a  time,  and  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  once,  or  more  often,  he  courted  temp 
tation.  When  I  knew  him  all  this  was  in  a  remote 
past.  At  the  chateau  he  usually  came  to  my  bed 
room  an  hour  before  dinner  to  set  out  my  evening 
dress,  and  was  pretty  sure,  when  this  was  done,  to 
put  his  head  in  my  little  salon  and  ask  if  I  needed 
anything.  Perhaps,  like  M.  des  Illes,  I  might  desire 
a  petit  verre  of  vermuth  for  the  bettering  of  appe 
tite.  As  I  soon  found  what  this  meant,  I  commonly 
required  this  sustaining  aid.  When  by  and  by  he 
returned,  carrying  a  neat  tray  with  vermuth  and 
cognac,  it  came  to  be  understood  that  he  should  be 
led  into  talk  of  himself  over  the  little  glass,  which 
would,  I  am  sure,  have  paid  toll  before  it  got  back 
to  the  buffet.  Pretty  soon  I  got  into  the  way  of 
making  him  sit  down,  while  I  drew  from  by  no  means 
unwilling  lips  certain  odd  stories  which  much  amused 
me.  With  an  English  or  Irish  servant  such  familiar 
intercourse  would  have  been  quite  impossible;  but 
Francois,  who  had  none  of  the  shyness  of  other 
races,  soon  came  to  be  on  as  easy  terms  with  me 
as  he  was  with  M.  des  Illes.  When  I  asked  him  one 
evening  to  tell  me  his  own  story  of  the  famous 
escape  through  the  catacombs,  he  said,  "  But  it  is 
long,  monsieur."  When  I  added,  "  Well,  sit  down ; 


EPILOGUE  315 

I  must  have  it,"  he  replied  simply,  "As  monsieur 
wishes,"  and,  taking  a  chair,  gave  me  an  account  of 
their  escape,  in  which  he  drew  so  mirthful  a  picture 
of  the  duke's  embarrassments  that  I  saw  how  little 
of  the  humor  of  the  tale  M.  des  Illes  had  allowed 
himself  to  put  into  his  recital. 

Francois's  long  life  amid  people  of  unblemished 
character  had  by  no  means  changed  his  views.  Yes, 
he  had  been  a  thief ;  but  now  he  was  out  of  business. 
He  had  retired,  just  as  M.  des  Illes  had  done,  there 
being  no  longer  any  cause  why  he  should  relieve  his 
own  necessity  by  lessening  the  luxury  of  others ; 
monsieur  might  feel  quite  secure. 

As  for  politics,  he  was  all  for  the  Bonapartes,  who, 
he  said,  were  magnificent  thieves,  whereas  he  had 
never  been  able  to  rise  to  the  very  highest  level  of 
his  business.  M.  des  Illes  objected,  and  the  last  time 
he  had  indulged  himself  in  a  prolonged  absence  — 
monsieur  would  comprehend  that  this  was  many 
years  ago  —  there  had  been  a  serious  quarrel ;  and 
how  could  he  annoy  so  good  a  master,  even  though 
they  disagreed  as  to  matters  political  ?  If  monsieur 
were  still  curious  as  to  his  life,  he  had  a  few  pages  in 
which  he  had  set  down  certain  things  worth  remem 
bering,  and  would  monsieur  like  to  see  them ?  Mon 
sieur  would  very  much  like  to  read  them.  Thus 
came  into  my  possession  this  astonishing  bit  of  auto 
biography,  which  at  last  I  had  leave  to  copy.  It  was 
oddly  written,  in  a  clear  hand,  and  in  a  quaint  and 
abrupt  style,  from  which,  in  my  use  of  it,  I  have 
generally  departed,  but  of  which  I  fear  some  traces 
may  yet  be  seen. 


316  EPILOGUE 

Two  evenings  later,  and  before  I  had  found  leisure 
to  read  all  of  it,  Francois  said  to  me,  ''  Does  monsieur 
think  to  give  my  poor  little  account  to  the  world?" 
I  said  I  did  not.  At  this  I  saw  his  very  expressive 
face  assume  a  look  which  I  took  to  mean  some  form 
of  regret.  As  he  spoke  he  was  standing  in  the  door 
way,  and  was  now  and  then  mechanically  passing  a 
brush  over  my  dress-coat.  Presently  he  said :  "  I 
only  desired  not  to  have  set  forth  in  France,  when  I 
am  gone,  such  things  as  might  give  concern  to  M. 
des  Illes,  or  trouble  him  if  he  should  outlive  me." 

I  replied  that  it  should  never  be  published ;  and 
when,  after  this,  he  lingered,  I  added.  •'  Is  that  as 
you  desire  ? "  It  was  not.  His  vanity  was  simple 
and  childlike,  but  immense. 

"  Monsieur  will  find  it  entertaining/'  he  said ;  and 
I,  that  this  was  sure  to  be  the  case,  and  that  it  were 
a  pity  the  world  should  lose  so  valuable  a  work. 
At  this  his  lean  face  lighted  up.  Perhaps  in  English 
it  might  some  day  be  of  interest  to  monsieur's 
friends;  and  as  he  understood  that  the  English  were 
given  to  stealing  whole  countries  belonging  to  feeble 
folks,  it  might  seem  to  them  less  unusual  than  it 
would  to  people  like  those  of  France.  But  monsieur 
was  not  English.  He  asked  my  pardon.  I  kept  a 
grave  face,  and  inquired  if  it  were  a  treatise  on  the 
art  of  theft. 

This  embarrassed  him  a  little,  and  he  made  answer 
indirectly:  did  monsieur  entirely  disapprove  this 
form  of  transfer  ?  He  seemed  to  regard  it  as  merely 
a  manner  of  commercial  transaction  by  which  one 
man  alone  profited.  I  returned  that  as  to  this  na- 


EPILOGUE  317 

tions  held  diverse  opinions,  and  that  some  Oriental 
people  considered  it  a  creditable  pursuit,  but  that 
personally  it  did  seem  to  me  wrong. 

M.  des  Illes  was  distinctly  of  that  opinion  ;  but, 
after  all,  his  (Frai^ois's)  account  of  what  he  had  seen 
and  been  was  not  limited  to  mere  details  of  business, 
and  I  might  discover  his  adventures  to  have  other 
interest.  When  he  heard  at  last  that  some  day  I 
might,  through  his  writings,  enlighten  the  nations 
outside  of  the  pale  of  Gallic  civilization,  he  went 
away  with  the  satisfied  air  of  a  young  author  who 
has  found  a  publisher  with  a  just  appreciation  of  his 
labors  —  a  thing  both  rare  and  consolatory. 

His  personal  history,  as  I  have  said,  was  well 
known  to  the  entire  household;  nor  did  he  resent 
a  jest  now  and  then  as  to  his  disused  art,  if  it  came 
from  one  of  a  rank  above  his  own.  The  old  duke 
would  say,  "Any  luck  of  late  in  snuff-boxes, 
Francois  ? " 

'•  M.  le  Due  knows  they  are  out  of  fashion." 

"Eh  bien;  then  handkerchiefs?" 

"  Diable  !  "  says  Francois.  "  They  are  no  more  of 
lace  ;  what  use  to  steal  them  ?  M.  le  Due  knows  that 
gentlemen  are  also  out  of  fashion.  M.  le  Bourgeois 
is  too  careful  nowadays." 

''True,"  says  the  duke,  and  walks  away,  sadly 
reflective. 

This  Francois  was  what  people  call  a  character. 
He  had  a  great  heart  and  no  conscience ;  was  fond  of 
flowers,  of  birds,  and  of  children ;  pleased  to  chat  of 
his  pilferings,  liking  the  fun  of  the  astonishment  he 
thus  caused.  Had  he  really  no  belief  in  its  being 

19 


318  EPILOGUE 

wrong  to  steal  ?  I  do  not  know.  The  fellow  was  so 
humorous  that  he  sometimes  left  one  puzzled  and 
uncertain.  He  went  duly  to  mass  and  confession, 
but  —  "  Mon  Dieu,  monsieur ;  nowadays  one  has  so 
little  to  confess,  M.  le  Cure  must  find  it  dull." 

When  I  would  know  his  true  ethics  as  to  thine  and 
mine,  he  cried,  laughing,  "Le  mien  et  le  tien;  't  is  but 
a  letter  makes  the  difference,  and,  after  all,  one  must 
live."  It  seemed  a  simple  character,  but  there  is  no 
such  thing ;  all  human  nature  is  more  complex  than 
they  who  write  choose  to  think  it.  If  character  were 
such  as  the  writer  of  fiction  often  makes  it,  the  world 
would  be  a  queer  place. 

He  is  dead  long  ago,  this  same  Frai^ois,  as  my  old 
friend  Des  Illes  wrote  me  a  few  years  later.  He  was 
very  fond  of  a  parrot  he  had  taught  to  cry,  "  Vive 
Bonaparte ! "  whenever  the  aged  duke  came  by  his 
perch.  One  morning  Poll  was  stolen  by  some  adroit 
purveyor  of  parrots.  This  loss  Fraii9ois  felt  deeply, 
and  vastly  resented  the  theft, —  in  fact,  he  described 
himself  as  being  humbled  by  the  power  of  any  one 
to  steal  from  a  man  bred  up  to  the  business, —  and  so 
missed  his  feathered  companion  that  for  the  first  time 
he  became  depressed,  and  at  last  took  to  his  bed.  He 
died  quietly  a  few  weeks  after,  saying  to  the  priest 
who  had  given  him  the  final  rites  of  the  church : 
"  M.  le  Cure  —  the  gold  snuff-box  the  duke  gave 
you  —  "  "  Well,  my  son  !  "  "  The  left-hand  pocket  is 
the  safer ;  we  look  not  there."  Then,  half  wandering, 
he  cried :  "  Adieu,  Master  Time  !  Thou  art  the  best 
thief,  after  all";  and  so  died,  holding  Des  Illes's  hand. 

I  learned  from  the  duke  and  his  son,  as  well  as 


EPILOGUE  319 

from  M.  ties  Illes,  many  more  facts  as  to  Frangois 
than  lie  himself  recorded ;  the  good  old  Cure  Le 
Grand,  who  was  a  great  friend  of  mine,  also  con 
tributed  some  queer  incidents  of  Francois's  life ;  and 
thus  it  was  that,  when  years  had  gone  by,  and  I  be 
came  dependent  on  my  pen,  I  found  myself  able  to 
write  fully  of  this  interesting  product  of  Parisian 
life. 

After  considering  the  material  in  my  possession,  I 
soon  discovered  that  it  would  not  answer  my  purpose 
to-let  Francois's  broken  memoirs  tell  his  story.  There 
were  names  and  circumstances  in  them  which  it  were 
still  unwise  to  print.  Much  of  what  I  may  call  the 
scenery  of  his  somewhat  dramatic  adventures  was 
supplied  by  the  singular  knowledge  of  the  Revolu 
tion  which  the  cure  delighted  to  furnish.  The  good 
priest  was  by  far  the  most  aged  of  this  group,  and 
yet  to  the  last  the  most  clear  as  to  memories  of  a 
tragic  past.  Thus  it  came  that  I  was  led  to  write 
my  story  of  Frangois  in  the  third  person,  with  such 
enlightening  aid  as  I  obtained  from  those  who  knew 
him  better  than  I. 

In  his  defense  I  may  be  permitted  to  quote  the 
cure's  cautiously  worded  opinion: 

"  Oh,  monsieur,  no  man  knows  another,  and  every 
man  is  ever  another  to  himself.  For  you  Frangois  is 
a  thief,  strangely  proud  of  an  exceptional  career  and 
of  his  victories  over  the  precautions  of  those  from 
whom  he  stole.  Is  it  not  so,  monsieur?"  I  said  it 
was.  "  But  the  bon  Dieu  alone  knows  all  of  a  man. 
I  was  not  a  priest  until  after  the  great  wars.  God 
pardon  me,  but  I  like  still  to  tell  tales  of  Jena  and 


320  EPILOGUE 

Austerlitz,  and  of  what  we  did  in  those  days  of  vic 
tory.  To  kill  men  !  The  idea  now  fills  me  with  hor 
ror,  and  yet  I  like  nothing  better,  as  monsieur  well 
knows,  than  to  talk  of  those  days  of  battle.  And 
Franqois  — 't  is  much  the  same.  How  could  one  live 
with  these  dear  people,  and  get  no  lesson  from  their 
lives?  Our  gay.  merry-minded  Francois  loved  to 
surprise  the  staid  folks  who  came  hither  to  visit  us ; 
but  I  know  that  —  ah,  well,  well,  priests  know  many 
things." 

I  thanked  him.  but  still  had  doubts  as  to  whether 
the  moral  code  of  our  friend  Francois  was  ever  ma 
terially  altered  by  precept,  example,  or  by  the  laek 
of  necessity  to  carry  on  his  interesting  branch  of 
industry. 

Before  telling  his  story  I  like  to  let  him  say  for 
himself  the  only  apologetic  words  I  could  discover  in 
this  memoir : 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  write  my  whole  life.  I  want  to 
put  down  some  things  1  saw  and  some  scenes  in  which 
I  was  an  actor.  I  am  now  old.  I  suppose,  from  what 
I  am  told,  that  I  was  wicked  when  I  was  young.  But 
if  one  cannot  see  that  he  was  a  sinner,  what  then! 
The  good  God  who  made  me  knows  that  I  was  but  a 
little  Ishmaelite  cast  adrift  on  the  streets  to  feed  as 
I  might.  I  defend  not  myself.  I  blame  not  the 
chances  of  life,  nor  yet  the  education  which  fate  gave 
me.  It  was  made  to  tempt  one  in  need  of  food  and 
shelter.  'T  is  a  great  thing  to  be  able  to  laugh  easily 
and  often,  and  this  good  gift  I  had  •,  and  so,  whether 
in  safety  or  in  peril,  whether  homeless  or  housed,  I 
have  gone  through  life  merry.  I  had  thought  more, 


EPILOGUE  321 

says  M.  le  Cure,  had  I  been  less  light  of  heart.  But 
thus  was  I  made,  and,  after  all,  it  has  its  good  side. 
I  have  always  liked  better  the  sun  than  the  shadow ; 
and  as  to  relieving  my  wants,  are  the  birds  thieves  ?  " 

I  noticed  on  the  margins  of  Francois's  memoirs  re 
marks  in  a  neat  female  handwriting,  which  he  told 
me  were  made  by  Mine,  des  Illes,  who  alone  had  read 
his  story. 

At  the  end  I  found  written :  "  If  ever  another 
should  read  what  is  set  down  in  these  pages,  let  them 
have  the  comment  of  charity.  He  who  wrote  them 
was  by  nature  gifted  with  affection,  good  sense,  and 
courage.  He  had  many  delicacies  of  character,  but 
that  of  which  nature  meant  to  make  a  gentleman 
and  a  man  of  refinement,  desertion  and  evil  fortune 
made  a  thief  and  a  reprobate.  She  who  wrote  this 
knew  him  as  no  one  else  did,  and,  with  God's  help, 
drew  him  out  of  the  slough  of  crime  and  into  a  long 
life  of  honest  ways.  CLAIRE  DES  ILLES." 


DATE  DUE 


